After the Fall
by FirstYear
Summary: Ever since Hermione entered the world of wizards and witches she has dealt with the ongoing war. Now she is having a hard time learning to live. Returning to the Muggle world, a strange sort of "friend" helps her... SS/HG but not a romance
1. The Sixth Christmas After

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**The Sixth Christmas After**

* * *

That morning Professor Snape woke with a headache. It was strong enough to blur his vision and cause his hands to shake. He had trouble picking up the vial that sat on the small table next to his bed, and once he had managed to grab the small blue bottle in both hands, he had to concentrate to open it, wanting to scream as every move he made shot a flash of pain so bright he felt blinded by the burst behind his eyes.

Over the past few months, he spent all his free time in his lab searching for a better potion, or for something to add to this one to strengthen it and make its effects last longer. He had been unsuccessful and had smashed vial after vial into the wall as he failed.

Today the headache was worse than it had been in the last few months. He remembered the glass of wine he'd had the night before and blamed it on the fact that the wine had mixed with his potions. He would not place the blame on the half bottle of whiskey he consumed when he returned to his chambers as he did each night in his search of painless sleep.

He made it as far as the shower, where he let the hot water flow over his back, and when the pain became unbearable, he fell to his knees. He braced himself against the hard tile with shaking arms and knew he would stay in this position until the worst passed; then he could make it back to his bed, where he would spend the remainder of the day. He felt every one of his joints, as if on fire, and his muscles contract and cramp in reaction to the pain. He lowered his head and waited until he could stand, taking great gulps of air and praying that his muscles did not spasm when he hit the cold air in his bedchamber.

The towel around his waist slipped to the ground, and being unable to bend and pick it up, he made it to the mantle and took up his wand to cast an _Accio_. Wrapping the towel around himself, he made his way to the table and grabbed the bottle, tipped it up, and swallowed what he could before the burn running down his throat made him put it down again.

He thought of Minerva's gathering in the Great Hall and scowled. He would go if he must, he thought to himself. He smirked, knowing his actions would not be to Minerva's liking after half a bottle of whiskey and two vials of potions.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Minerva was in her office early that day, taking her morning tea by the window that overlooked the grounds. She could still see the battle that had taken place at quiet times like this, as the morning fog crept across the grounds as the smoke had on that night so long ago. She could hear the screams and the thundering sound of walls falling and crashing around her. She could list every life Voldemort took that night, and all those lost before. She could list each injury received and knew which ones still festered.

She sipped her tea and remembered the first war and the lives lost then. She remembered the Prewett boys, and the four young men that had dubbed themselves the Marauders, and wondered how many more names she would be adding to her list. She knew the war was not yet over for many. Not yet, not until the pain was gone and the memories put away would the war be over. Not until the last had laid down the fight would she be able to rest.

Neville still returned from St. Mungo's each week looking more and more haunted. She knew he felt somehow guilty that he had survived when others around him had died, and the sight of what was left of his parents added to that guilt. She worried for Neville and wondered at times if he would ever come off her list.

She knew the dungeons held what would be the first name added to her list of those lost that still walked. Severus had not taken a meal with the staff since he had returned to his position three years ago. She had forced him to attend the staff party tonight hoping that he would join in a conversation. The only time he talked was when he goaded a staff member or berated a student.

Minerva shook her head and walked over to her desk, where she sat and poured herself a second cup of tea. Hermione, she thought. Whatever will she do?

Minerva reached in her drawer and pulled out the girl's personal folder to read it over again, although she had it memorized. She wanted to help her find a new post but knew the prospects were slim. Even with the war over, many businesses would not hire a Muggle-born, seeing them as somehow the cause of the war. After all, they would say, if only pure-bloods existed, monsters like Voldemort would not rise against them to bring war, and if the Muggle-born had just left, the war could have been avoided.

She sighed and began to read the file again.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Hermione bought all the professors the same present for Christmas that sixth Christmas after. She put in her order at Flourish and Blotts months early to make sure she did not have to enter the shops with crowds of students and pushy parents looking for that perfect gift for someone they barely knew. She sat on the floor of her chambers and wrapped the leather journals, each embossed with the recipient's name and the year, the old-fashioned Muggle way. She used white paper and silver ribbon to avoid the foolish designation of houses, a custom she had grown to detest.

Since the war had ended, in this new time she called after, she no longer could look at the houses the same way and avoided any representation that fed into the old prejudices. She could no longer give the Heads of Houses their tokens wrapped in greens or reds. She could no longer look forward to the holidays as she had as a student, foolishly thinking the calendar could bring some measure of joy and peace to an undeserving world.

The war had stolen more than her youth and dreams of happy endings and fairytale lives. The war had stolen her trust in all that she knew. She no longer thought of a grand career, enlightening minds, finding cures, or a marriage and redheaded children. She gave all that up soon after the war.

She had felt like an eleven-year-old again and just starting out. She was without a purpose and found that she and her best friends were joined only in a cause, a mystery, a play of their own creation, and put on a stage built by an old man, directed by a prophesy and applauded by a world that did not understand. The war had been exciting, romantic, and glamorous to young children, and helped form a bond between them. Once that war was over, the bonds came undone, fell to the ground, and were left there. They had not even tried to retie them. They were too afraid to face the past to look to the future.

Too many years were between them now. The first was spent in front of cameras, trying to avoid unwanted publicity. That first year Harry grew distant and pulled away from the famous trio. By the second year, even Ronald did not notice or did not care about the ever-growing distance that separated them. She and Ronald had stayed together from habit until a cold realization of their growing apart was too much to ignore. They had never officially broken up or told each other they were done. They drifted apart until the last '_see you soon' _became three years.

Hermione sent greeting cards out this morning to show a celebration of the season as tradition required. One card included apologies for not attending the festivities at the Burrow; the rest included only her signature. She debated if she should use her last name, but in the end she signed only her first, having thought it was enough to give a personal touch.

She piled the wrapped journals on the coffee table and slowly pulled herself up, arching and placing her hands in the small of her back. She stretched to get the kinks out from sitting on the floor too long as she glanced at the clock.

_Shite_, she thought. The staff party started five minutes ago. Now she would be late and would listen to the reprimands and see the curt nods of disapproval. The sooner she got there, the sooner she could leave. She hated these things, hated that Headmistress McGonagall knew she did and still forced her to attend. She picked up the journals and headed for the Great Hall wearing her teaching robes and not the expected festive holiday dress.

She walked with the journals hugged to her chest and her head lowered, keeping her eyes on the stone hallway floor. Her stride was long and firm, making it obvious to all that saw her that she did not want to be disturbed and was intent on getting to her destination with the least possible interference.

"Hermione!" She heard her name called only to lengthen her stride and walk faster.

"Hermione, hold on. Do you need some help with those?" Neville asked, coming up to her and matching her shorter stride.

"No, Neville. They really are not heavy," she sighed, knowing her idea to slide her packages under the tree and leave the party had just evaporated.

"I've been looking forward to this. It is nice to get together and not talk business." He grinned and shoved his hands in his pockets as they walked down the stone hallway.

"Yeah, that will be nice."

"I heard Snape is even coming this year."

"That'll be a first. He's been back three years now, and this will be the first he's been forced to." Hermione looked up at Neville angrily. "It's not fair, you know. The treatment he gets, I mean."

"You know how McGonagall has been since the war."

"He isn't the only one that … I am sorry, Neville. I really don't mean that. I guess I just don't want to be here tonight."

She thought of how Severus had looked that night when Harry brought him back to the castle. Harry had levitated him, screaming for help as he made his way to the hospital ward. Once there, he had begged Madame Pomfrey until she left the injured students long enough to staunch the bleeding and get Kingsley involved with sending him to St. Mungo's. St. Mungo's had not accepted Death Eaters. There were too many injuries on the side of light to worry about those in black robes and silver masks.

Severus Snape had lain in bed for the next six months until he could sit up enough to go on trial for war crimes. With the memories in Albus' Pensieve, Harry as a witness, and McGonagall's insistence that he was a member of the Order, he avoided Azkaban. However, the publicity which he hated more than his injuries was unavoidable. During the following months of rehabilitation and medical care, Hermione had only once attempted to see him and vowed not to make that mistake again.

She had walked onto the ward in St. Mungo's, not even sure what she intended to say. All she knew was that every time she closed her eyes she saw the dead and dying. She had somehow thought by talking to him she could come to terms with what had happened and put it behind her.

He had been caustic, insulting, and cold. He had smirked at her tears. He had told her to grow up and to stop acting like a stupid bint, to stop glorifying death and to leave him alone. She had run from the room, her face hot and tears blurring her vision as she fought for air. That was the day the war had ended for her and she started to count the time as before and after.

Hermione finished her seventh year and when she was unable to find employment, she reluctantly accepted Minerva's offer. Now, five years later she found herself unable and unwilling to venture out again. She would send out applications and resumes only to have her interviewers turn their questions to Harry Potter and the final battle. She went to interview after interview with companies that never intended to offer her a job, only wanting to meet one of the trio.

Neville stepped ahead of her and opened the door to the Great Hall, allowing Hermione to enter first, and then followed her in, quietly closing the door. With only staff in the vast room, the sound of the door closing echoed, announcing their arrival to those already gathered around the head table. Minerva stood and started towards them as Hermione put her packages under the tree. Neville reached into his pocket, enlarged the gifts he carried with a shrinking spell and pushed them to join hers.

"Professor Granger, Professor Longbottom," Minerva said in greeting. "I am so glad you could _finally _make it."

"Ten minutes, Headmistress, we are only ten minutes late." Hermione lifted her eyebrow and looked at the older witch coldly.

"It's my fault. I stopped her in the hallway to talk." Neville smiled as he told his small lie to save Hermione from further discussion on the importance of being on time.

"It appears the younger staff have not yet learned discipline, Headmistress, once again demonstrating their ineptitude and unwillingness to be punctual." Snape's voice cut through the air.

"Thank you, Professor Snape." Hermione turned to look at him. "How very festive of you, and on this very special day."

He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her, then turned to the Headmistress. "Minerva, I do believe that you have news to share with us concerning the upcoming term."

"I do not believe this is the best time to go into it," Minerva said. "We do not need to spoil the occasion."

"What news?" Hermione knew this would concern her by the smug look on Snape's face.

"Professor…"

"Minerva, whenever you start by calling me Professor, I know you are about to correct me or tell me something I do not want to hear. Since you have already corrected my tardiness, I can only assume that whatever this news is will only suit Snape." She looked evenly at the Headmistress.

"Umm, Hermione?" Neville tugged on her sleeve. "We can talk about it later."

"You know?" Hermione saw Neville blanch.

"Our budget has been cut. We have far fewer students this term than last, and next year proves to be worse," Minerva offered with a rise of her chin.

"You are telling me you are cutting my workload again and my pay?" Hermione clenched her jaw and tried to remain calm.

"Not exactly," Snape purred.

"Severus, enough," Minerva said.

"Neville?" Hermione turned only to see Neville staring at the floor, not meeting her eyes.

"I am sorry, dear." Minerva put her hand on Hermione's arm.

Hermione looked between the three and felt as much as heard the silence that had came over the room. No matter how hard the rest of the staff worked not to look at her, she could feel everyone watching. She felt tears on the back of her eyes and swallowed hard, trying to keep them in check. The look on Minerva's face told her everything she needed to know.

"Professor Sprout will be retiring this year so that will ensure Professor Longbottom, but…"

"Yes, I quite understand. Muggle Studies and Charms are taken. When will this become effective?"

"Next term. However, you are welcomed to stay though the summer," Minerva said quietly.

"I am sure that will be unnecessary." Hermione lifted her chin and smiled thinly. "I am sure I will find a post well before then."

"I will be more than happy to write you a letter of recommendation, my dear," Minerva said.

"I am sure you can find something commendable to write if you try hard enough," Snape sneered at Minerva.

Hermione felt her face flush. She knew if she did not get out of this room soon, she would lose what little control she still had.

"I do need to leave now, Minerva. I have a previous engagement for the evening." She turned to the door and walked out of the room without turning as Neville called her name.

She hurried down the hall when suddenly her knees felt weak, making her stop and rest against a windowsill, leaning her forehead on the cool glass and willing her tears away. She looked out at the grounds and could not see them for the memories that flashed in front of her. Memories of children she no longer knew and games she no longer played overlaid by the sound of falling walls and screams of pain.

She stood up and straightened her back, lifted her chin and began to walk back to her chambers. She would be fine. She would remake herself and move somewhere they did not know her. She could start over and find some measure of peace away from here, away from what she could no longer bear.


	2. The Decision

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**The Decision**

* * *

Hermione ordered breakfast sent to her room. She had no desire to sit with the rest of the staff now that she knew she would leave in a few months. She no longer had to play polite and listen to endless predictions from Trelawney about doom and dark-haired saviours of the wizarding world, or listen to Neville and Sprout go on over the uses of some common under-appreciated houseplant.

She pulled out the folder she kept on job interviews and applications from her desk drawer, sat on the floor and laid out the pieces of parchment. She made a stack for the copies of applications she had owled that resulted in polite rejections. The second stack was for those she received only a note for, saying the application would be on file for a year.

It was this second stack that she now picked up and studied. Three businesses had since closed. She sighed, thinking finding a job would be a lot harder now that their displaced workers were also looking. With a flick of her wand, she reduced the three applications to ash. She looked at the next two pieces of parchment and knew they were dead ends. She returned them to the floor and frowned.

She now had two applications left that she could update and send in with an inquiry. The first was for a position at St. Mungo's for work in the Potions and Pharmaceutical billing department. The second job was working with Arthur Weasley at the Ministry. She flicked her wand at the second piece, sending that to ash as well. She knew she would not be able to work with Arthur Weasley after all that had happened.

The Weasley family, cold to her since the last time she had seen them over three years ago when she was no longer with Ronald. She could only imagine what they would be like now, after all this time. She pulled out a sheet of parchment to send off to St. Mungo's, updating her resume, asking again for a job interview.

When she was done, she sat hugging her knees, looking at the fire and wondering about going out into the Muggle world. She had enough in her vault that she could afford at least two years of school to update her skills to fit back in the world she had left. Never before had she considered it seriously. Now, she sat and thought about the brochures she had in her desk and thought she may leave for good.

Her parents were no longer hers, not knowing who she was or who they had been. She tried to remember friends from her days in the Muggle world and found she knew a few first names, but knew no one she could drop in on or invite for tea.

She found a melancholy sweetness in the idea of disappearing with no explanation. She wrinkled her brow and wondered if anyone would really miss her. Five years ago, she would have thought of many; today she could think of none. Neville was the closest to someone her age she could call a friend, but that was not even true. He was a work associate who talked to her between classes on occasion. At least it was more than the rest of the staff, who limited talk to meals and never directed their comments to her.

She thought of a poem she had read, but could not remember the author or the name. She remembered the need to put away childish things and decided then she needed to do the same. She needed to put away her dreams of a world that she no longer belonged in, a world where she had become an oddity to stare at and wonder about. She put her folder away, knowing she would never send the new resume to St. Mungo's. No, instead she would leave and go back to where she belonged. Nothing here had a hold on her.

Picking up the parchments and returning them to the drawer, she flicked her wand and said a firm "_Nox_." Having made her decision, she thought she could at last sleep without her dreams.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Severus Snape managed to crawl out of bed by dinnertime. He had a tray set out in his sitting room on the same table as the half-empty bottle of whiskey. Pushing the tray back, he took his dinner in liquid form again that night. Waiting for the warmth to seep through his body, he stretched out his long legs and laid his head back on the chair.

He sometimes thought of leaving Hogwarts now that he was free of both his masters and the roles he no longer played. Every time he took up quill and parchment to make a list of things he could do, places he could go, and things too long put off, he would sigh, lay the quill down, and know he would stay here until term let out, and then he would begin to plan for the next. It was a cycle of which he was familiar. A cycle he had kept for twenty-two years, twenty-nine if he added in his own student years here at Hogwarts. This was a place of comfort and a place he could hide as he had for twenty-nine years.

He had taught more children than he could remember. Their faces and names blurred together and became the all too familiar ones he saw from day to day. He saw the grey-blue eyes and silver-blond hair and knew a Malfoy somehow figured into the mix, or saw brightly coloured changeable hair and knew with a certainty that if Tonks had lived he would be blaming her.

_Tonks_, he thought. He never would have called her that, and had never spoken to her more than he had to. Now, as he sipped his whiskey, he thought of the way she had stumbled and tripped and then would laugh at herself and felt his mouth curl up in a grin. He had admired the tenacity in the girl she was, and the fierce loyalty in the woman she became. He frowned when he realized he regretted not having ever spoken to her kindly.

He held the bottle up to the light of the fire and judged how much longer he had to remember faces before the whiskey kicked in, and wondered if half a bottle could still make him forget or if he needed more.

At times, he thought of moving back to the small house he still kept at Spinner's End. For all these years, he had sent a yearly fee to a management company that cared for the house even though he had not seen it in the better part of a decade. He could no more leave his lab and forego his potions than he could live as a Muggle again. He had forgotten the simplest things. The last time he travelled into London he had found the clash of noise disconcerting and the constant hum of electrical gadgets irritating and grating on his nerves.

He held his bottle in his hand as he closed his eyes and brought the cool liquid to his lips once more. He no longer used a glass. He no longer needed to put on airs and be the impressive git of the dungeons. He almost smiled, thinking that he had worked hard for the reputation that he had, and planned on using it to his advantage.

He looked at the chess set Minerva had given him and could not remember the last time he had company and wondered why she had thought of buying it for him. He put his head back against the chair again and chuckled at the thought of playing chess with Peeves.

He tipped the bottle back for another swallow and noticed the pain slipping a little farther away. Opening his eyes and examining the bottle, he judged he had just enough left to see him though. Whispering "_Nox_", he prepared for another lonely night.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Minerva had put Hermione's file back in the desk drawer. Although the witch had the best grades that she had seen for many years, Hermione no longer had that certain spark, that imagination or that certain wonder that she used to have. She missed that 'it' that set her apart. The Hermione of late could learn anything that came from books but missed that certain part of genius that made others stand out.

In normal times, a position in research and development would have been available. In normal times, Hermione would have no problem obtaining employment. However, these were not normal times, and employers did not want an employee who would have the press knocking on the door.

Minerva knew Hermione still woke at night screaming and trying to forget the dreams that chased her through the days. Too many times, she had seen the young witch walking the grounds well after midnight as if trying to fool the dreams into following her outside and losing them there. She had never spoken of it. She was sure Hermione was not alone in her night-time terrors and did not think drawing more attention to it would help.

Minerva reread the last correspondence she had received on Hermione. St Mungo's was no different than the rest. All positions had been filled, they were sorry to say, all positions that the applicant was qualified for. Minerva read between the lines and knew that businesses such as St. Mungo's thrived on privacy and needed employees that were not sought out once a year as the anniversary of the final battle rolled around.

She had not even bothered contacting anyone in the financial area. She knew that one of the trio, and a Muggle-born at that, could not find employment in that sector of the wizarding world. The war may have been won, but the hatred of all things Muggle or Muggle-born was still there. Too many purebloods still controlled the money and had too much control to allow Miss Granger to find a suitable post.

She put the file back in her desk drawer and slid it shut with a sigh. Swivelling her chair around, she looked up at Albus' portrait and saw he was once again pretending to be asleep in his chair.

"I could use a little help around here, you do know." She leaned forward to watch him closely. "Don't sit there and pretend to be sleeping, old man. I can't keep this up forever, and I see your nose twitching."

"Ah, my dear, Minerva," he said as he opened his eyes and smiled. "When will you learn that you cannot fix everything?"

"I cannot just leave it like this. She is all alone."

"We are all alone, my dear. It is only a matter of degrees."

Minerva scowled at him as she folded her arms across her chest. "I don't need more of your cryptic answers, Albus. I need someplace to send her, some place she can go."

"The best thing you can do for her is to leave her alone." Albus smiled, leaned back in his chair, and peered over the top of his spectacles. "Until you find your own peace, you can not give any to her."

"I am at peace. It is Professor Granger that is not. Just last week, in this cold, she was up and walking most of the night. She gets no rest."

"Yet you were up to see her." Albus frowned at her. "My dear Minerva, when was the last time you slept through the night without a potion? Have you never thought that she would be unseen except due to your own dreams?"

"I cannot just forget all of them, Albus. There are so many left alone."

"Alone is much better than lonely, don't you think?" He stood up and walked to the frame on the picture. "Now you must excuse me, dear. I think I will turn in for the night."

Minerva watched as he walked out of the picture and wondered for a moment where he slept. Then, uttering a soft "_Nox", _she left her office as well and went to bed.


	3. Those Left Behind

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**Those Left Behind**

* * *

Hermione stood on the platform and waved to the students as they boarded the Hogwarts Express. She knew she would miss the students' noise and laughter once she was gone. Sometimes she would open her window just to add noise to her room, the way her mother turned on the radio in the next room when things got too quiet. She wondered if she should buy a radio when she left here. It had been so long that she had thought of Muggle things that she found a sudden longing in the memory of a radio.

The parting ceremony had seemed hollow but still left a bittersweet taste of what had been. She had looked out at the faces and wondered if she had ever been that young and free. She had smiled and applauded with the rest of the staff as the winner of the House Cup was announced, and pretended that it was a wonderful thing that one house could win over another.

After the meal was completed, and the Headmistress said good-bye for the term, Hermione walked back to her quarters to pack and prepare to leave. She picked up the acceptance letter to the university that she had left out, laying on her desk, and felt again as that young first year getting her Hogwarts letter. She sat down to go over yet again the list she had made of things to do and people to see.

The first thing she had done was to open a Muggle account and have her Gringotts funds transferred. She had paid her tuition for the first year and set aside enough for books. Shopping had been the hardest thing she did by far. No longer used to the crowded streets and undergrounds, she had been disoriented and nervous at first.

The first time she had walked though the Underground, from one side of the street to the other, she had caught her breath and stopped on the steps, unable to go to the bottom. It was damp and cold and the sounds of footfalls echoed against the poured concrete walls. She took a step backwards, stumbling on the steps when a hand slid under her elbow.

"Miss Granger." The voice was low and close to her ear. "I assure you it is quite safe."

She looked up to see Professor Snape looking not at her but straight ahead to the far end of the Underground.

"What are you doing here, Snape?" She yanked her arm away from him and glared.

"It seems Miner… Headmistress McGonagall was concerned that your first trip out in several years would be hard on you."

"So she sent you to tend me?"

"No, she asked me to make sure you did not have difficulties."

"I can do this myself. I do not need your help," she snapped at him and walked down to the bottom of the steps, looked down the tunnel and then back at him. "Well? Are you coming or just standing there?"

He smirked and walked to her, taking up her elbow again and matching her stride. He walked her to the end of the passageway and up the steps on the other side of the street before he released her.

"I, myself, had difficulties in lifts after leaving this world for so long. It is the closed-in feeling and the difference in the sound from those at the Ministry," he offered, looking down at her. "I learned to merely find the stairs. Perhaps you should use a taxi until you have grown accustomed to the closeness of the Underground and the difference in sound."

"I grew up as a Muggle and do not need your advice on how to live as one." She lifted her chin and pressed her lips together, feeling the stir of anger beginning.

"As did I, Miss Granger, as did I." He nodded and walked away from her, disappearing into the crowd on the pavement.

That was the last time she let it be known that she was leaving the grounds of Hogwarts for the day. She learned to walk to Hogwarts and use the Floo at the Three Broomsticks to travel to the Leaky Cauldron, and then stepping out to Muggle London, she would hail a taxi and give her destination.

She hated to admit that he had been right. Twice more she had tried to use the Underground, and both times had lost her breath before reaching the end. Once, she had to sit on the stairs to still her stomach and to stop from vomiting. It was more than the sound and more than the closeness. She knew her back was exposed and the only way out was the way ahead. If she were caught in the middle, she would have no place to turn and no one to hear her scream.

She remembered the story of Harry's attack by Dementors and at first thought this was what preyed on her mind. She would put her hand in her pocket and hold her wand, ready to feel their coldness, only to find it was something more she was scared of, something with no name. Something that sat in the shadows and corners of her dreams and now followed her into the daylight.

She packed her robes and gowns from Diagon Alley into a trunk. Next, she stacked her books and all magical items into a pile and sat on the edge of the bed, wondering what to do with them. She knew she could store them here in one of the many empty rooms in the utmost parts of the castle, but decided her empty vault in Gringotts would suit her needs better. Then, with a laugh and a flick of the wand, she reduced them all to ash.

Now, as she waved to the students, she felt the books and trunk of clothes for only a Muggle life in her pockets. From here, she would head to Gringotts and change into her Muggle jeans and tee. Then, taking the last of her life from a vault underground, she would step into Muggle London and be gone.

Hermione smiled and hugged her arms around herself as she walked back to the castle for the last time. She was suddenly excited to be going and thought of new places and new friends in places she had never been.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Severus did not like being in the position of spy for Minerva. Although his only assignment was to keep an eye on the witch as she navigated the streets of London, he felt like a voyeur following a young girl he had no business watching. After her first three trips, he had smirked upon seeing her hail a cab instead of trying the Underground again, knowing by the whiteness of her face she was not growing use to it.

He had turned on his heel, returned to Hogwarts, and assured Minerva that the girl was fine. He saw no further reason to follow her and pry into her life and frowned when Minerva stressed the importance of knowing more.

"She has a right to her own life," he had sneered at the Headmistress. "I also have the right to be left out of this. I thought I was through with controlling and overbearing Headmasters."

"Severus, you know I worry about her."

"You have hundreds of students to worry about, Minerva. Perhaps you should place your concern where it should be."

"I need to know…"

"No, you do not. If you want to know her plans, I advise you to talk to her."

"She would not tell me, I tried." Minerva sniffed and raised her chin higher.

"Then let it be, and let me be." He turned on his heel in a billow of robes. "I am through with this. My oath was over when Albus decided to leave this world early. I will not fall back under someone's thumb."

Severus had returned to his lab to work on his potion. Now, as he stood looking at the ingredients that he had laid out in front of him, he knew they would not work. He swept them to the floor with his arm and leaned on the worktable with his head down. Madam Pomfrey had offered to take his problem to St. Mungo's and ask that research be done. He had scoffed at her and told her that St. Mungo's would have no interest in helping a former Death Eater.

His Order of Merlin lay at the bottom of the lake where he had thrown it in a fit of anger. The Ministry had a knack for adding insult to injury, he thought. They ignored his potions and contributions to the medical field that saved lives, and awarded him a medal for fighting and killing. He had no use for them or the monthly deposit that found its way to his vault each month laying unwanted and untouched.

He sat on the high stool at his workbench and took up his journal, etched with his name and the year, to go over his notes again. He needed to find some measure of relief. He needed to stop the venom that felt like it was liquefying his joints, although Poppy had reassured him that no further damage was evident. He gave up on finding a potion for pain when he realized he could no longer concentrate and had trouble forming coherent thoughts as the potions became stronger and stronger. His students had begun to look at him strangely when he repeated whole sentences or fought to stay awake during essays.

He now had the whole summer to work with no interruptions of noisy students. He read his notes and scratched out whole lines. The secret had to be in an anti-venom. He would need the original venom to find the cure but he had depleted his stock years ago. He stood to find Poppy, thinking perhaps he would take her up on her offer to intercede with St. Mungo's after all. Perhaps if he funded the project with his monthly check from the Ministry they would help. At least, he thought, perhaps they still have a stock of venom they took after the final battle that he could buy for his own experiments.

Severus Snape could not remember the last time he had asked for help. Only once since he had come to his halls had he turned to another and Albus had been all too ready to take what was offered in return. Severus had sworn then to never ask again. He shook his head as he headed for the infirmary, wondering how the end of the war had changed them all.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Minerva had seen Hermione on the platform as she waved goodbye to the students. She had stepped back into the shadows and watched as the girl-turned-woman stretched her arm high in the air and mouthed the words of farewell and smiled. She never saw the smile light her eyes, and knew then that she planned to leave. She stepped out into the sunlight and watched as Hermione turned to walk to the village, feeling a cold steel as it settled in her chest.

Minerva had never been a witch known for demonstrations of affection, but that did not mean that she shunned them. She ached to call to Hermione and wrap her arms around the small witch and let her cry into her shoulder and speak of her plans. Instead, she raised her chin and walked stiffly back to the castle, knowing that in being slighted Hermione was protecting herself. Still, it stung and shook her to the core.

Now, she stood at her office window well after midnight. This was the first time since the end of the war that all the students had gone home. She was glad for the older students and hoped that as the war faded in memory more and more of those affected would be able to let it go and feel safe in this world again, no longer needing to hide at Hogwarts.

She looked out on the grounds and realized with a start that she was looking for Hermione. When the young Professor had not returned from Hogsmeade she hoped that she had not left today. Although she knew now what was coming, she had hoped to still have a day, perhaps two. This time, however, she did not return when the shops in London closed.

Minerva walked to Hermione's chambers and politely knocked on the door, waiting for the familiar voice to bid her enter. When no sound came, she opened the door and walked into the empty room. Every trace of the former occupant was gone. The bed was stripped and bare, the walls empty of Hermione's awards and certificates that had been so proudly framed and hung where she could see them.

Minerva walked to Hermione's window, pulled it shut, and then turned and left the room. She walked slowly back to her office, hearing her footfalls echo back at her from the cold stone walls, and found her peace in the familiar hallways and the knowledge that Hermione had been strong enough to leave.


	4. The Seventh Christmas After

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**The Seventh Christmas**

* * *

Hermione lowered her head, tucking her chin into the collar of her coat as she walked across the square. It was cold. Bitter cold. She cursed herself for not grabbing her hat and gloves when she left this morning. She had planned to be gone only a few hours; now she looked up at the clock on the corner building and saw that it was almost dinnertime.

"Shite," she said aloud into her collar. She held one side of the collar in each hand and pushed the fabric closer around her mouth, blowing into the enclosed space to let the heat of her breath warm her fingers. She kept her eyes down to shield them from the north wind that swept down from the arctic, across vast expanses of frigid water, to settle like an icy claw over the city.

Her shift at the campus library was over hours ago, but when Bridget did not show up, again, Hermione had stayed. She needed the money and the extra few hours were that many more hours she would not have to fill by herself. It was now in the embrace of the warmth in the corner shop that she shivered and felt the cold more acutely.

With a deep sigh, she lowered her hands from her collar and stretched her chin up and away from the moist material. Picking up a basket and slipping the red plastic carry-all over her arm, she started up and down the aisles, taking only what she could carry against the cold and wind.

"Hi Jake," she said as she put her purchases on the checkout. "I see you got stuck working tonight."

"Yeah, it's dead slow is what it is." He put her purchases in a white plastic bag, all the while frowning.

"I know, I know." She rolled her eyes and dug for her money. Finally she found the ten-pound note she had shoved into her pocket only that morning, and handed it over, grinning sheepishly.

"You can't live on this stuff. You need to eat real food."

"I am tired. I am going home and going to bed." She arranged the loops of the plastic bag over her arm and tried to smile up at him. "Anyway, I am having a big meal tomorrow. We all eat too much on the hols."

"My Mum's been cooking for two weeks." He grinned and nodded. "Well, have a happy Christmas, Vickie, and if I don't see you, happy New Year."

"Same to you, Jake, happy Christmas," Hermione called back over her shoulder as she pushed the door and stepped out into the cold again.

He watched as she left the shop, knowing that she was lying again. She came in about three times a week, always alone and never buying enough of anything to feed two, sometimes not enough for one. He shook his head and turned back to the newspaper he kept under the counter, thinking of Christmas dinner at his Mum's. He looked back at the door and considered running after her and asking if she would join him but knew to do so she would have to give up her ruse of going home for her own Christmas meal. She would turn her too-thin, pinched face to his, tell another lie, and pretend to smile. He shrugged his shoulders and went back to his paper, only briefly wondering about her and why she had come here.

Hermione only had to cross two streets and turn up to the end of the pavement before she was home. She tucked her head down, feeling the cold worse now than it had been before the short respite of the grocery. She looked up to judge how far she had gone only to have her eyes tear in the cold. By the time her hand reached for her door she had to blow on her fingers again to warm them enough to turn the key and wipe the frozen tears from her face.

She managed to open the door and slide her hand over the wall until she found the switch and flicked on the lone lamp in her sitting area. Her apartment was what they called a studio, she had learned the day she had come to rent a flat. That was what they called the space over a garage, one room and a loo. Perhaps, she thought, trendy names made spaces no one else wanted, and had never come to see, more desirable. She had bargained and thought the reduction in price still left it costing more than it was worth.

Knowing she could not have them check with a past landlord, call her past employer, or verify her new name, she had laid down the cash and moved in with one case and a plastic bag. All her worldly possessions, she had laughed then, thinking how easy it would be to replace what she had lost.

That was before the reality of the grocery and heat and electric bills. That was before all the things she knew came back, said hello, and laughed at her for her misspent youth and foolishness and the fact that she had forgotten how to live here. She had not even known that laptop computers were required in class and hitting Send was the only way to turn in her assignments. She had spent one full day growling at the keyboard and another learning how to use the printer and scanner. She had paced and stormed until she stomped back down the hill to flay her arms at the clerk and rant of inferior products and the fact that nothing worked.

She had been embarrassed to see the grin and smirk that went with his chiding and a full explanation of connecting cables and throwing switches. She almost pushed him into the hallway as he kept explaining much more then she needed to know.

She wanted to curl up in her chair, wrapped up in a warm blanket, and read with the familiar weight of a book and the smell of the ink. She wanted to lick her finger, and peek at the next page and not see the glare of a computer screen. Now, she sat before the bright flat panel and flinched when advertisements popped up in front of what she was reading, telling her to click and point and meet the man of her dreams.

She put her grocery bag on the table, picked through it until she found the chocolate bar, and unwrapped it slowly. She remembered Remus making Harry eat some on the train, and how it had helped him recover from the grief and sadness that he felt. She took a bite and held it on her tongue, closing her eyes and letting its sweetness melt and run down her throat. She squeezed her eyes tighter to hold the tears, waiting for the sadness to leave her as it had Harry, and cursed again when it would not.

Her dinner was tea and the crackers she had carried from the grocery, leaving the tin of pears unopened. She opened the cupboard, grabbed the biscuits, and headed for the chair by the window. Often, she would sit and watch the headlights of the cars snake up the hill behind the city. Tonight she only saw what she did not want to see, and remembered what she did not want to remember.

There would be no presents on the foot of her bed, no sweater, no book, and no chocolate frogs, no one to come running into her room and wake her in peals of laughter. She had left and hid under a strange name, in a place no one would come, for a reason she did not even understand herself. She thought that in the spring she might go back to the other world if, like the snow, she could thaw. She leaned her head back on the chair and saw again the bodies lined in rows, and smelled the coppery blood, and heard the cries, and opened her eyes to watch the tranquil lights on the hill, unable to sleep again. She wondered why memories were the worst at this time of year. There had been no snow on the ground that night her world had cracked open and she had fallen.

No one had spoken of those last days, after the battle, after the dead lay in their graves. No one spoke of forgiveness, not to give to them but to give to self. They had held weapons, cast curses, killed, and not spoken of it although it sickened their souls. She had tried that one time, in the small back room of St. Mungo's, to talk to Snape, to ask him to explain why it should hurt so bad when they had been told it was right. Another Christmas was here now, the seventh since the battle.

.

.

Severus had the elves deliver his yearly bottle of scotch to Minerva, and a bottle of wine for Poppy. The rest of the staff he gave Firewhiskey. He had given them the same thing for so many years it seemed a bad habit rather than a holiday celebration. The liquor store in Hogsmeade had filled his standard Christmas order, including one that he had forgot to cancel, not having thought of Hermione for a year.

He remembered last year how she had fled the room almost in tears, thinking no one noticed, and the way she had held her head, refusing to show she cared. He took a pull on his bottle, recalling his own words, and wished he could have that night to do over and still his tongue. He told himself it was the whiskey and the pain, but he did not even believe himself.

He would not go the Hall this year. _Damn_ Minerva if she thought telling him the staff party was mandatory would make him change his mind and grovel like a fool. Minerva, like Albus, tried to keep him close and in doing so set him on edge and made it easier for his caustic words to be set loose. No, he thought, last year would be enough to last a life time.

He would not sit and listen to off-key holiday songs and stories of Christmases past. He would prefer to spend his night at the Hog's Head, but even there on this night it would be too full of false cheer. He held up the bottle of whiskey and saluted Albus' portrait that Minerva had seen fit to hang over his mantel last year, chuckling that it still hung facing the wall. He had come home from an evening at the Hog's Head furious to hear the old man's reprimand and in a fit on anger had banished him from spying.

He looked at the extra bottle again with the name tag hanging from its neck and wondered where she was. He knew she was not in Hogsmeade; the town was small enough that he would have seen her, or the rumours would have reached him. He knew no one in Diagon Ally would hire her. What businesses that were still there were either family run or held the same staff they had for years.

He tipped his bottle up again and thought she was no doubt in London. Then, walking over to the mantel, he flipped over the picture to ask Albus.

.

.

.

.

Minerva said good night to the staff that had attended the Christmas staff party, disappointed at the turnout. Each year the staff became smaller, and each year more of the staff decided not to attend. This may be the last year she tried to have a staff party at all, she mused.

She was sure Neville would have left for the holidays if he had not felt compelled to stay for her sake. She had seen him in Hogsmeade with a much shorter witch, who from the back looked every bit like Luna Lovegood. Minerva had bit her tongue and refused to question him as much as she wanted to. On occasion she would have to call his name twice to get his attention at the dining table, knowing his mind was elsewhere. He would look at her tapping her fork impatiently and grimace at being caught in his daydream only to lower his head, smile, and find his dream again.

Two weeks ago, an owl had brought a missive asking for a reference. She had studied the note and wondered why Neville would need a reference until she learned from Snape that the return address was from a realty office in Diagon Alley. It seemed Mr. Longbottom was purchasing a home in Hogsmeade.

Minerva smiled and happily wrote a return letter praising the young man and vouching for his character. She tied the letter around the owl's leg and held out a treat. Then she quickly wrote another note to Neville, telling him it was time to bring his witch to Hogwarts and do the introductions. This was one more name she could take off her list and one wedding she would happily attend. She smiled, knowing how long it had been since he had been in a true family, and knew he deserved every bit of happiness he could wrest out of this world.

She thought of the last wedding she had attended for one of the Weasley boys and the sad ending to that celebration that Molly had planned for so long. the last time she had seen Molly was almost a year ago now. The pleasant witch seldom left her home, seldom could be seen in Diagon Alley, and seldom would drop by for a cup of tea as had been her habit. Minerva remembered her son as he lay on the floor, wrapped in the arms of his brother, and wondered how long it would take for Molly to come to terms with her grief for her son as she had for her brothers.

She took out her appointment book from her desk drawer and looked for an open afternoon. She felt like having a friend for tea and knew Molly would love the new tea she had found imported from Sri Lanka.


	5. The Shattering of China

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**The Shattering of China**

* * *

Hermione woke and stretched her arms over her head and her legs to the foot of the bed as far as she could. A smile crept over her face as she thought of how her mother used to say that she and Crookshanks looked the same when they woke. She sat on the edge of the bed, slid her feet into her slippers and grabbed her robe from its spot on the floor. Then, she hurried to the kitchen to put on a pot of water to boil for tea and to kick the heater that seemed to thrive on abuse. Standing at the stove, shivering and waiting for the water to get hot, she clicked on the rest of the burners, hoping to heat the room faster.

Finally, with the water heated and poured into the pot with two measures of Earl Grey, she poured a cup and hurried to her chair by the window. Today she planned to curl up and read her latest find from the resale shop down the way. She had never had the time to read modern novels before rejoining this world, and found a hidden delight in following her favourite author's works. Now she had an entire day to remain in her bedclothes, drink her favourite tea and read steamy tales of romance and adventure.

A glance at the window confirmed that the snow had stopped sometime during the night after covering everything in white. Her small room over the garage sat on a slope slightly above the city, affording her a good view of the waking streets. Today life would move slow and easy. No rush to work, or students hurrying to class; the streets would remain quite until the first of the church-goers ventured out of their home for Christmas mass.

She pulled her feet up under her and leaned to the side, looking out at the tall trees covered in snow as they stood as silent guards. A solitary figure walked below the snow-laden branches, seemingly intent on avoiding the street that ran just to his right. She shook her head and opened her book to begin to read, thinking Muggles strange in their delight of trekking off roads and stomping through drifting snow.

Having finished the first chapter, she stood to refill her teacup and saw the figure now standing in the parking lot under her window. She walked to the side of the window and peeked down, trying to see what he was doing, frowning as she puzzled at the sight, not knowing what it was that bothered her. There was something odd, something she could not put her finger on. A whisper of cold seemed to creep into the back of her mind and run cold fingers down her spine. She suddenly turned away from the window and pushed her back into the wall.

Around the man's feet, a patch of pavement showed. The snow had melted around his feet.

Hermione dropped her empty cup, not hearing the shattering of china as she ran to her room to dress and find her wand. She looked in the top drawer of the cabinet next to her bed, and then ran to pull down her carry case from the top shelf of her bedroom closet. She cursed her stupidity of forgetting where she had put it, and her stupidity of not keeping it handy.

By the time she was dressed and held her wand in her hand, and peeked out the window again, he was gone. She flicked her wand and repaired the cup then stopped cold, afraid to move.

"Shite," she said aloud and wondered if the Ministry could pick up this small amount of magic. "Damn, damn, damn."

She looked out of every window and opened the door to peek down the steps, holding her wand to her side. She thought over each step she had taken, each plan she had made and could find no way that she could have been found. _Damn_, she thought again, _how bloody stupid to use magic over a broken cup._

She was no longer interested in her novel and instead grabbed her textbooks and laptop. Sitting on the floor, she began to study, trying to forget what she had seen and dismiss it as a crazy thought that crossed her mind. No one knew she was here; no one would be looking for her.

"Damn," she muttered as she stood up and snatched her coat off the hook by the door. She would not be able to ease her fear until she looked for herself to make sure whoever it was had gone.

Hermione walked quickly to the spot she had seen him, squatted down near the footprints, and searched the ground for evidence that he had walked away. She stood and turned in a complete circle, looking for any sign of someone still here, then searched the ground for other melted patches. _Damn_, she thought , searching the snow for other tracks. Finding nothing, she squatted down to the ground and looked closely at the melted spot. She wanted to set her wand to the place he had stood and put a tracing spell to it. If she knew where he had gone, she may know who he was. Afraid to expend more magic, she stood and looked around one last time.

Tonight she would stay up and watch. Tomorrow she would find another flat.

.

.

.

.

Severus paced in his chambers until the sun came up, and then headed to the Apparation point to leave. He was not sure why he was doing this but did not stop to question. He had taken enough pain potions to still his tremors, and hoped it would be enough.

He had spun into a field he remembered from his youth. His mother would drag him here once a year for the town's festival. They would play games of tossing rings and throwing basketballs at hoops too small. She would slide her hand into her pocket as he tried to throw darts to win a prize, and then he would walk away with the biggest stuffed animal of all. He shook his head, remembering how they would leave the prize sitting on a bench, unable to take it home and let his father learn where they had been.

Now he looked around, surprised at how much smaller the field looked and how much different covered with snow.

He would find her, he had thought, just to assure himself that she was well. He had a need to know that she was safe, that this was her choice, that she had found a suitable position in this world. He stood looking up at what he knew was her window until he saw the light flick on and thought he saw a glimpse of her bushy hair as she sat by the window.

He had debated knocking on her door. Now that he was here, he felt foolish and ill at ease, with nothing to say. He cast a warming spell around himself and waited until the sun was full up, then looking up at her window again, decided he was acting foolish and decided to leave.

He looked around quickly and cast a silencing spell, then Apparated from the parking lot below her window back to Hogwarts' main gate. He noticed that the snow was not as deep here, nor the wind as cold. He looked around the grounds as he walked up to the castle out of habit, looking for students. Then, sighing, he looked up and saw a shadow cross in front of Minerva's window and knew she had seen him return.

He was not surprised to find Minerva waiting for him at the bottom of the staircase as he headed down to the dungeons.

"I did not hear the wards sound last night when you left," she snipped with an accusatory tone in her voice.

"Nor should you have." He began to walk past her when she stepped in his path, folding her arms across her chest and scowling at him.

"Severus Snape, when it is just you and I in this castle you will inform me when you are going out. I will not impose on you at any other time, but on this I must insist."

"Fine."

"I do not do this for any other reason than to…."

"I said _fine,_ Minerva, now if you will let me pass I plan on returning to my chambers." He glared at her.

"Dinner will be served in my quarters at six this evening," she hissed at him, then turned on her heel and began walking away.

"Was that an invitation or a bit of information you were imparting on me?"

"Take it for what you will ,Severus, but you either join me or go without dinner. We have only one elf on duty today and I will not expect him to make two separate meals."

"In that case I will accept your kind offer," he said, then dropped his arm, bent at the waist and offered a formal, mocking bow.

"They are correct, you know. The students. They all say you are a git." She turned on her heel and walked stiffly up the stairs.

Severus felt a twitch at the corner of his mouth watching her walk away. She would no more come out and say, she wanted company than he, and he would no more kindly accept an invitation than would she would offer one.

.

.

.

.

Minerva hung up her robes and tall hat before Transfiguring a table and two chairs in the sitting room. She then took the potted fern, set it in the corner and turned it into a Christmas tree. She pulled out her wand and with a couple of flicks decorated it in red and gold bulbs with sprigs of holly on each branch tip. Nodding at her job well done, she called the elf and gave the order to bring dinner at precisely six.

At one minute before the appointed time she walked to the door, where she paused for just a moment, then opened it to Severus' first knock. Stepping aside to let him in, she hid her grin by coughing into her hand. He stood staring at the tree with a sneer plastered on his face. Bringing his wand up slowly, he flicked all the red bulbs to green and got rid of the holly.

"Really Severus, do you think green bulbs on a green tree are a little much?"

He folded his arms, took a step backwards and tilted his head to the left, and then to the right, studying the tree before answering Minerva's question.

"No."

"Oh, Severus." Her wand came up and replaced the holly as he changed the bulbs to white.

"Minerva?"

She sighed, changed the holly to sliver ribbons, and nodded her acceptance.

"Fine," she said.

"Yes, fine." Severus turned from the tree and walked to the table, pulling out Minerva's chair and waiting for her to sit as he politely pushed it in.

"I have had word concerning Ted Lupin." Minerva lifted the domed cover from her plate and then reached over to do the same with Severus'.

"He seems a little young for a First Year." Severus picked up his fork and started his meal.

"He is only seven, he will be eight soon."

"As I said, he is a little young for a first year."

"Yet it seems his tuition for his entire stay here at Hogwarts has already been paid."

"Strange."

"Yes, Severus, do you not find it peculiar?" She looked at him, raising her eyebrow.

"I am sure this has happened before."

"Not since the first war ended, or we thought it had ended." Minerva picked up her fork and poked at the chicken on her plate before laying down her fork and looking at him again.

"I believe we will have a wedding to attend soon. It appears Neville is purchasing a house in Hogsmeade."

"First, I will not attend a Longbottom wedding, and secondly, you can forget about forcing it, Minerva. I refuse to sit in a room full of Longbottoms, Potters, Lovegoods and Weasleys."

"I did not mention that I thought it to be Luna. Wherever did you get that impression?"

He laid his fork down and pinched the bridge of his nose. "No reason other than twice I saw her in the greenhouses mooning over him. A sickening sight, I must say. Add that to Mr. Longbottom's inability to concentrate these past few months and it seems a small leap to know something has been going on."

"I received the final count for next year." She smirked and picked up her fork again. "It appears the count will remain unchanged."

"That should insure Mr. Longbottom's continued employment." Severus rolled his eyes at the ceiling. "Perhaps this is only a taste of hell I am being offered. And here I thought I was done accepting self-imposed pain."

"Not for many years, I am afraid." Minerva looked at him closely. "Have you heard anything from St. Mungo's?"

"Nothing as of yet. However, Poppy has found a potion that will clear my head enough to allow me to function while on the pain potion." He laid down his fork and reached for the glass of wine that she sat in front of him.

Minerva looked at the Christmas tree and smiled. "It is like Hermione's wrapping. Is it not? Devoid of houses?"

An owl tapping at the window brought them both to their feet and to the window. It was unusual at this time of the year to send owls at night, and to send one today must be a matter of some importance. Minerva took the missive from the owl's leg, read the tag and handed it to Severus with a raised eyebrow.

He held his teacup in one hand as he held the note up to the light with the other. He scowled as he read it, then sat heavily on the windowsill, looking up a Minerva, and held the note out to her as his cup slid to the floor.

She took it from him, unable to read his face, and unrolled it slowly, reading it as she did, then gave him a broad smile.

"Well, it seems Poppy has sent you quite a Christmas present, hasn't she? I am so pleased for you, Severus. Your cure, and on Christmas day."

"Indeed." He took the note back, looked at the shattered shards of china on the floor, and wondered when that had happened.


	6. A Night Out

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**A Night Out**

* * *

Hermione could not get used to her new apartment. She was on the second floor of a three-floor building and the noise and rattling pipes that woke her at all hours were having an effect on her. At Hogwarts, she could always find a quiet place to shut out the world and only see the words on the page. Here, she could not concentrate and often would wake at three in the morning to get through her work.

She had a hard time during her first year. Coming to this world was like learning a new language. She found she heard Muggle professors speak, and then had to translate it to what she knew of the Wizarding world, and then put it back in Muggle terms to form her answer. The courses she thought to finish in two years would take her three.

She had studied Potions and knew the properties of each ingredient, how they reacted to each other, and how to prepare them to brew. Now, she had to learn the elements of each ingredient, and why they reacted as they did. She wanted to apply her Arithmancy but in this world, things were different. She had known this when she started back in school but a part of her had said that it would not be that different, that her past studies would have prepared her for this. She found the university gave her far less freedom of study and far less time to peruse her other interests.

She sighed and sat on the floor, opened her laptop and logged in to the Chemistry department's site. She clicked onto the tab for accounts and entered her User ID and password. Moving the cursor down the list of subjects, she put her left hand over her eyes before she hit _Grades_.

She clicked and threw her right hand with her left, afraid to look at the screen. This was the last grade she needed before she could apply for a scholarship. She had tried to fill out an application for financial aid only to find she needed to leave too many questions unanswered. She spread out her fingers and opened one eye, peeking at the screen, ready to hide her face again. With a squeal, she jumped up, clapped her hands, ran for her jumper and headed out the door.

Hermione hurried to the coffee shop she had discovered with Bridget, knowing she always stopped in at the end of her shift and hoped to catch her, wanting to share her news with someone. She saw Bridget sitting in a booth with two friends from class, waving to her and beckoning her over. Hermione smiled and almost ran across the room in her hurry to share her news.

"You got your grades!" Bridget smiled and moved over to make room for her. "It's good, I just know it's good."

Hermione nodded and smiled. "I was so worried. You don't know how worried I was."

"You?" Gary said with a smirk. "I should worry more if it gets me your grades."

"Yeah right," Bridget said. "Maybe you should _study _like Vickie if you want her grades."

"Got ya there." Jerry laughed at his roommate. "Listen, I was just telling Bridget that I have four tickets to a concert in London. Gary and I are going and would like you two to join us. We could call it a celebration of your grades."

"What do you say,Vic?" Bridget nudged Hermione with her elbow. "No class for ten weeks and neither of us have to work tomorrow."

"Umm, I don't know." Hermione worried her lip and looked at her three best friends since coming here. "When do we…"

"Here it comes." Gary rolled his eyes. "Questions, questions, questions. Vickie, have I ever steered you wrong?"

"Now that you mention it, there was that time we were just going to take your sister's car and…"

"Okay, name two. Just give me two times."

"How about the time Professor Hayes said to …"

"Okay, that's enough." Gary had the good grace to turn pink. "We leave this afternoon about two, the concert should be over by eleven and then I thought we could go clubbing."

"My sister has a walk up in Kensington. She said you two can have the extra bed if we camp out on the floor." Jerry leaned over the table and looked at Hermione. "Come on, you never go out."

"I guess I could." Hermione looked at Bridget, then smiled,and turned back to Jerry. "Sure, why not. It has been ages since I went anywhere."

"Good." Bridget pushed Hermione out of the booth and scrambled out after her. "Meet you back here at two. We need to grab some clothes."

"You look fine, it's jut a concert." Gary grinned at Bridget.

"For the club, you fool. If you think I am going in jeans and a tee you're crazy." She turned to the door, tugging Hermione with her.

Hermione let Bridget drag her along until they were almost back to the apartment building. "Oh Merlin, Bridget, I have nothing to wear! Nothing for a club, I have to find a shop quick."

Bridget giggled and pulled Hermione across the street and around the corner to a small shop tucked in between a butcher and the grocery where Hermione always shopped.

"I have walked right by here and never noticed this," Hermione mused.

"It used to sell home appliances, -you know, stoves and stuff. This shop just opened." She grinned and pulled Hermione inside. "Prices are a little dear, but the clothes are to die for."

They each tried on clothes and giggled at the short skirts and low cut tops. Hermione absolutely refused to wear red and balked at the green. She wanted nothing that reminded her of Hogwarts or house colours. Tonight was for her, and she refused to think of anything else. She finally decided on a knee-length black dress that reached almost to her collarbone in the front, had absolutely no back, and made her feel like blushing just seeing it on the hanger.

They made it to the concert late, Jerry having never driven in London and Gary not knowing how to read a map . Bridget and Hermione sat in the back, refusing to help read the signs, and laughed as they flew by street after street hearing Gary mutter _Shite _and Jerry's curses. Finally, Hermione gave in, gave him directions to the closest parking lot to the concert, and showed them the way to the hall.

"I grew up not far from here," she explained as the hurried along the pavement.

"I thought you were from Covington?" Bridget said, looking at her oddly.

"We moved," Hermione stammered. "I grew up around here but we moved before my Mum got sick."

Hermione looked at Bridget and smiled, hoping this would fit in with the story she had told her earlier. In order to explain away the fact that she was at least five years older the average beginning student she had made up a story of taking care of a sick mother and a father that travelled for business.

After rushing through the streets, they made it to the concert and ran up the steps to the front door, hearing the music and noise spilling out on to the street. Holding the tickets in his hand ready to surrender them, Gary rushed ahead as the doorman stepped in front of him before he could open the door.

"Sorry, no one goes in after it starts." The big burly man stood with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"We got lost," Bridget said.

"Yeah," Gary added. "There are no parking spaces left around here. We had to walk from eight streets over."

"Listen, I don't care what the reason, late is late. No one admitted after intermission."

Hermione grabbed Bridget's wrist and looked at her watch. "Umm, guys? It is almost ten. I think we missed most of it anyway."

"Okay, listen," Bridget said brightly. "See that pub over there? Vickie and I will get our clothes and change in the loo. You two find a table and order us a drink."

"My sister is waiting for us."

"Call her. Tell her you screwed up and got lost again. Trust me, she expects it." Bridget started walking back to the car to get their clothes, then stopped and turned back. "What am I doing? You two go get our bags, we'll order the drinks."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Hermione laughed and headed across the road to the pub. "After all, I need a drink after your driving."

"Hey, it wasn't that bad."

"If it were good we would be in there seeing the concert," Bridget shot back at him. "You walk, we drink."

Hermione and Bridget found a booth ,still laughing at the way the boys had sulked off. They slid in opposite each other, giggling about the look on Gary and Jerry's faces as they had started to the car muttering about long walks, not enough time, and whose fault it was. Hermione looked over her shoulder and gazed at the others in the pub, feeling the familiar prickle of magic. She looked around quickly, not able to see into the high-backed booths, and worried about the unseen. She had left her wand behind, and cursed herself for doing so.

Their drinks came and Hermione tossed hers back quickly, ordering a second to Bridget's raised eyebrow.

"What?" she said, laughing. "You'll just have to catch up. I haven't had a whiskey in almost…anyway, in too long."

"If they don't make it back with the clothes soon you won't need them, girl." Bridget laughed as Hermione turned red.

"Miss Granger," a familiar voice purred in her ear.

She gasped and turned quickly, her hand automatically reaching for her empty pocket, feeling for a wand that was not there.

"Snape," she hissed.

"Good evening, Miss …"

"Professor, this is Bridget Conaway, a friend from school." She tried to head off the repeating of her name. "Bridget, you must excuse me for just a minute, the professor here and I are old friends."

She slid out of the booth and took his arm, looking at the front door and knowing the boys would be back at any moment. Turning toward the back of the pub, she saw an exit sign and headed toward it, pulling Snape along behind her.

"Okay, spill," she said once they stood in the alleyway behind the pub. "What are you doing here?"

"I am meeting friends. I thought perhaps you were joining us."

"Us? Us who?"

"It seems I am forced to play host to Mr. Longbottom and his fiancée this evening." He sneered at her. "Minerva's idea, I assure you."

"Neville? Engaged?" She squealed and smiled widely.

"How is it witches share that common reaction? Glee over his impending nuptials is most inappropriate, I can assure you."

"I see you have not changed."

"No, nor do I intend to."

"You do seem to be in better health." She looked at him, suddenly concerned. "Poppy was able to help?"

"Much more than anticipated." He looked at her oddly. "How are your studies? Minerva would want to know."

"Minerva would want to know?" She grinned at him. "I see. Tell Minerva that when you saw me I was celebrating the fact that I am now eligible for a scholarship."

"Then I will give you her congratulations, Miss Granger. However, I am surprised at your age that you would be granted a scholarship as they are generally eked out to the incoming first years."

"Incoming … what?"

"Scholarships are most generally given to those just starting, not returning after several years, as it would appear to them that you are doing."

Hermione stared at him, opened her mouth to answer and closed it again. He could not possibly be right. She had this term paid and her account nearly empty. She stared at him, feeling ill.

"Will you be joining Mr. Longbottom and Miss Lovegood this evening?"

"Luna?" she asked weakly.

"Yes." Severus intoned, raising his hand to the bridge of his nose.

"Why can I not see you spending an entire evening with Luna and Neville?" She started to laugh and found she could not stop, if from nerves over what she had just heard or from the image of Severus and Neville together she did not know. She gasped for air and fought to stop; when she saw Severus' lip twitch and she started again.

"I am afraid, Miss Granger, that I…"

"Oh, Merlin." She stopped laughing and looked at Severus seriously. "Bridget heard what you called me."

"It is your name."

"I don't go by it any longer."

"I see."

"No, I don't think you do."

"Miss Granger, when attempting to disguise who you are, tell as few lies as possible. It is far easier to remember that way and harder to be caught unaware such as this."

"Yeah," she said as she worried her lip. "Now you tell me. Maybe you should teach a class in it. You know, Spying and Disguises for Beginners."

He scowled at her, roughly took her elbow and led her back to her booth.

"Once again, please forgive me. However, you remind me so much of your mother when she was your age I find myself wanting to call you Granger. It was her maiden name that I knew her as," he said pointedly, raising his eyebrow and smirking at her.

"Quite all right, Professor Snape," she said with a grin. "I keep forgetting you are as old as you are."

"Thank you for remembering," he sneered.

"No problem, Professor." She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. "You were her teacher too, were you not? My goodness, you must be well past retirement age."

"Good day, Miss… my dear child." He smirked and walked back to his table.

"Whoever was that?" Bridget watched Severus as he walked back to his table.

"An old friend," Hermione said, knowing she had to be out of sight before Neville walked in. "Listen, I am headed for the loo to do my makeup and hair. Will you be a dear and bring in my clothes when they get here?"

.

.

Severus had been surprised to see Hermione in London. He had chosen the pub because Neville had taken Luna to a concert and this was a convenient location. He watched Hermione as she left the loo, seeing how she kept her face turned from the table, not wanting Neville and Luna to see her.

He was sure if she had been alone she would not have hesitated, but with her new friends and almost caught in a lie, she now had to play it out. He watched as she made it to the front door and looked at her figure in the stiletto heels and backless dress, noting the way the fabric clung to her hips. He wondered when she had grown into a woman.

She had a self-assurance he had not seen in her before, and obviously did not feel intimidated by him. He smirked as she walked away, trying to hide but dressed to draw attention. His fingers went to the bridge of his nose as he fought the twitch to his lips, thinking of her idea for a class in disguises and the fact that she could use it with that black dress.

He was about to turn back to Neville and Luna when he saw Minerva walk in with another witch. He tried to stop the snort of laughter that suddenly overcame him at the sight of Minerva trying to fit in wearing Muggle clothes out of fashion for at least fifty years.

"Excuse me Mr. Longbottom. It appears our hostess for the evening has just arrived." He smirked as he rose to collect Minerva.

"Severus," Minerva said. "You have met Julie, Julie McCoy. She was only six years behind you."

"Only six? I remember all my _students,_ Minerva." He glared at her before offering her his arm and guiding her to the table, leaving Julie to follow.

"Do not even think it, Minerva," he whispered in her ear as he pulled out her chair. "Or would you like me to call Filch and make it an even six? Trust me, my match-making skills could use some practice."

.

.

Minerva returned to her chambers that night quite pleased with the way things turned out. _Luna is a lovely girl_, she thought. Neville kept smiling all night and Luna kept up a banter that Minerva even had some difficulty in following.

Neville was always searching for that special herb, that rare plant, that ingredient that added to a potion could help his parents, and Luna was the perfect girl to share his vision for things to be found both strange and wonderful. She thought of Severus, who had begun to work again on potions for St. Mungo's, and knew he would spend the holiday break and the entire summer down there again until he found what he was looking for. She knew he had visited the Longbottoms, and from the information Poppy had given, he had done so more than once.

Molly was happily spoiling another grandson, courtesy of George. Minerva knew that the pain would never go away for her, but had seen the motherly witch return to hosting family meals and raucous holiday parties at which stories of her son and brothers were laughed over and shared.

She sipped her tea and turned to Albus' picture. "Well old man. Another year is gone, another term over."

"So it would seem, my dear Minerva. Have you yet managed to settle your accounts?"

"My accounts?" She sniffed and peered over her glasses.

"How many yet to go? How many lives yet to help set right?"

"I do not know what you are talking about, old man."

"No," he said with a chuckle. "I did not imagine you would. Now, tell me of Severus, and how are the Longbottoms tonight?"


	7. The Eighth Christmas After

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**The Eighth Christmas After**

* * *

Hermione woke and sat up on the edge of the bed, reaching for the bottle of aspirin she had put on her nightstand the night before, after she had swallowed four. She wished she had a headache potion. She and Bridget had a little too much holiday cheer and now she was paying for it dearly.

She stopped suddenly and slowly turned around, hoping she would not see what she thought she would. She groaned and covered her face, seeing the impression of his head still on the extra pillow. She heard the whistle of a teakettle and cursed under her breath.

"I heard that." Richard's voice came from the doorway to the loo.

She looked back over her shoulder and saw him leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and a frown on his face. He wore boxers and a tee that she remembered she had been more than eager to pull off him the night before. Turning back to hide her face, she pretended to be interested with the aspirin bottle.

She felt the bed sink down as he crawled over to her and, moving her hair, kissed the back of her neck. She closed her eyes and felt a chill as goosebumps broke out on her arms and she fought not to moan and lean back into him.

"Richard…"

"I know, Vickie. But last night you seemed to be okay with it." He chuckled as he thought of the way she had whispered his name as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him lower to her. "Are you having second thoughts already?"

"Oh Richard, I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Vic, we have been going out now for six months. We've talked about this." He crawled around her and pulled himself up to sit next to her on the bed.

"I know, but what do I say to my friends? They already tease me about my grades. Yes, I am sleeping with my professor?" She leaned her elbows on her knees and put her head in her hands. "Gods, Richard, I just don't see how this can work."

"I don't want to leave, Vic, but I will if that's what you want."

Hermione shook her head but kept her face buried in her hands. "You don't understand, Richard. You just don't understand."

"Is there someone else?" He reached over and tipped up her chin. "I know you said there's not but something is keeping you back, something I need to know. I think after last night you know how I feel. Vic? You do know I don't plan this to be just a one night thing."

"I just can't get close right now. There is too much you don't know." She turned away from his face again.

"I don't care about what happened before I met you. Everyone has baggage. They learn how to carry it or they throw it out."

"Oh, don't be too sure about that," she said, fighting a nervous grin. "There are things I just can't go into now and things I can't just toss out."

"Does it have anything to do with your nightmares?"

She jerked her head to look at him. "What?"

"Last night you were talking and yelling in your sleep." He frowned at her. "Did you see someone … someone killed… something with a fire or an explosion? Was it a car accident?"

Hermione stood up and grabbed her robe from the floor next to the bed. "That's nonsense. Come on, I am starving. Whoever spends the night cooks breakfast. That's my new rule. So get to that stove and get cooking, boyo."

"I tried," he laughed, standing up and following her to kitchen. "I found two tins of soup, three eggs and something growing in a plastic bowl in the back of the fridge."

Hermione opened the fridge and looked at the empty shelves. "I could have sworn I shopped this week."

She felt his arms come around her waist as he leaned down to kiss her neck again. "So, you are okay with last night?"

She turned around, looked at him, and nodded her head, tempted to tell him that she was more than all right with it, that she had wanted him for so long. "I just didn't want it to happen like this, I guess. But I am okay with it."

"Get dressed." He smiled and kissed her quickly on the mouth. "Jake's open. We eat and then you'll tell me the way you wanted it to be, and we will see what we can do about it later."

"Last night was good," she said, turning red. "I shouldn't have said I didn't want it to happen, I did, just not now."

"You are okay then? I know we both drank a little too…"

"No, Richard." She put her fingers over his mouth and shook her head. "Don't, it makes it sound like it didn't mean anything, that it was cheap, that … it was the only reason we ..."

"I assure you it meant something." He grinned at her and pushed a hank of hair behind her ear.

She kissed his cheek and hurried to the shower, grabbing a set of clean clothes as she went. "You do the shopping while I shower. Get coffee. I want coffee for Christmas - strong, hot, black coffee."

"Already giving orders?"

"Yup." She grinned as she stepped into the bathroom and shut the door.

Hermione hurried through the shower, anxious to be ready when he returned, and was surprised at how natural it seemed now, to have him here. She paused as she stepped out, wiped the foggy mirror, and rolled her eyes at the ceiling. _My gods_, she thought, _that is what he sees in the morning and he still wants to stay? _

She grinned at the mirror and stuck out her tongue, giggling, and then started to brush her teeth when she thought to run to the window to peek out to see if he was coming back yet. He had a way of walking up the hill with his hands shoved in his pockets and his head up as he hummed a song or sometimes actually whistled. She would chide him and slap his arm, laughing at his off-tune attempts, all along not wanting him to stop. Toothbrush in mouth, she looked down at the street and felt as if a bucket of cold water hit her when she saw the same figure she had seen before, exactly a year ago, walk up the pavement.

She looked more closely, trying to discern his size, age, anything that could help. All she could see was the hooded cloak and the black leather boots and once again, she thought to run. She dropped the toothbrush on the floor, used the back of her hand to wipe her mouth as she ran to her nightstand, and took up her wand. Holding it to her side, unable to hide it in the knickers and tee she wore, she decided to put it back in the drawer rather than run the risk of Richard walking in and seeing it.

She went back to the window and saw the cloaked figure stop in the road and turn to her apartment building. She froze and stepped to the side, hiding behind the curtain and biting her nails as she peeked though a crack at the side of the curtain. She watched him reach out a hand and trail his finger down the list of names on the mail slots from top to bottom, hoping whoever it was did not know her new name.

She sighed in relief as he looked around and took one step and then disappeared from sight. She knew he was powerful by his absolutely silent Apparation and that he either knew someone in this place or had a strong tracking spell to be able to find her after all this time. She worried her lip and thought of rouge Death Eaters and wizards that would not appreciate her surviving the final battle.

She sat in the chair she still kept close to the window, and drew her feet up under her and continued to stare unseeing out the window, thinking of Death Eaters and seeing again the final battle, the line of bodies and the faces of the survivors.

"Vickie?" Richard had squatted down in front of her. "Hon, I've been calling you. Are you all right?"

She saw him as if coming out of a dream and nervously nodded her head and tried to smile. "Yeah, I … I guess I … I must have fallen asleep."

"I stopped at the coffee shop and picked up a cup of that mocha you like." He put a paper cup next to her on the end table. "Hold on, let me get a real cup."

He came back and put a mug down on the table, poured her coffee into it and then picked her up, turned around, and sat down with her on his lap.

"Something is wrong, Vic. It's more than just last night."

"I guess it's just the whole Christmas thing."

"That's what you said two months ago, remember? You said it was the whole Halloween thing that upset you at Bridget's party."

Hermione snuggled comfortably on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder, and looked up at him, trying to put her thoughts onto words. She could not tell him of Halloweens from the time before and costumes of werewolves that reminded her of Remus but brought up visions of Fenrir. She could not explain how she saw the Muggle super hero of Batman in the black cloaks and silver half masks of Death Eaters.

"Here it comes, right Vic?" He scowled at her. "Your famous push off speech? The one you even gave Bridget?"

"No, well I guess that's up to you." She sat up straight, looked at him, and then got off his lap.

"If you can accept me just for the here and now and not ask for any promises or ask questions then I want to be with you. If you can't then I … I will have to say I don't want to see you anymore. I'll have to say goodbye."

"What about me?" He stood and faced her, putting his hands on either side of her face. "What if I want more? What if I want a commitment from you?"

"I can't. You don't understand, Richard. I can't offer you more. Not now, please. I…I need time."

"How much? Give me a date." He let her face go and stepped back from her. "What? A month? Six months? A year? How much time to you need?"

"Richard, please, don't do this." She started to turn from him only to have him hold her arm and turn her to face him.

"You know I love you, Vickie." He locked his eyes on hers. "You know last night was not an accident, or a mistake. One year. My contract here is up in one year, then I plan on leaving. I want you to come with me. Whatever this is, whatever is between us, we need to settle it in a year. I can't live like this. Not knowing from one day to the next if you want me around."

"I'll be done here in a year as well, when I graduate." She looked at him though a blur of tears. "I'll try, I'll really try. I promise …"

He slid a small box in her hand and pulled her chin up to look at her. "I bought this two months ago, waiting for the right time to give it to you."

She opened the box and saw the engagement ring he wanted her to wear. Her chest felt as if a hand was squeezing her, making it impossible to breathe. She swallowed, trying to clear the lump that lodged in her throat, painfully preventing her from speaking. He took the ring from the box and put it on the third finger of her right hand.

"For now then, take it as a Christmas gift. We will move it to the other hand when you are ready. But hear me, Vickie, this is my intention. You have to stop pushing me away only to pull me back. It is all or nothing."

"Richard, I can't promise, there are things about me you…" She choked out the words through her tears.

Her words and tears stopped when he pulled her to him and crushed his mouth to hers. "I don't care about those things," he whispered in her ear, "I only care about _you_."

.

.

.

.

Severus made it back to the dungeons before Minerva knew he was gone. He had lifted the wards so she would not know he had left and wait for him as she had done last year. He took the package from his pocket and tossed it on the table, wondering what had induced him to buy it for the know-it-all in the first place. If she wanted to leave this world he should just accept it and leave her be. _I must be getting old_, he mused to himself.

He grabbed his bottle and took one swallow of whiskey before putting the cap back and replacing the bottle on the table. He looked at the clock and went into his bedchamber to change his clothes from the extra layers he had put on against the cold this year to make a warming charm unnecessary, to something more suitable for breakfast.

Minerva was keeping the Great Hall open this holiday season for meals since not only Poppy but also Neville and his new wife would be in residence over the break. After he changed he took one more swallow of whiskey. He had decided long ago that if he did not sleep at night the social stigma of drinking this early did not apply. He also needed the extra fortitude to face this morning's meal as Minerva had invited the Weasleys to join them in yet another bid to heal the past.

He opened up his desk drawer, pulled out a small box, opened it up and peered at the clear crystal that lay on a black velvet bed. He touched the crystal with one finger and felt the shimmer of magic that radiated off the ancient healing stone. He had found this after a long search and paid two years' salary to now hold it in his hand and wonder how to give it to the Mediwitch and keep his distance at the same time.

He sighed, tempted to put it back in the drawer, then shoved it in his pocket and strode to the infirmary, determined to hand it to Poppy without an audience. He should have given it to her before the holidays came and he cursed himself for putting it off until now, making it look like a Christmas gift.

He pushed the doors open and walked to her office in the back of the infirmary, hoping he was early enough to catch her before she headed to the Great Hall. He sighed in relief when he heard her muttering and cursing to herself long before he saw her.

"So, are you winning the argument?" He smirked at her.

"Not yet, young man." She frowned up at him. "I will thank you not to take sides either. I will handle this one on my own."

Severus felt his lip twitch, then he frowned as the looked around the office. "Poppy, did you have an accident in here or is this your idea of holiday decorations?"

"Peeves thought it would be funny to fill my office with bubbles," she spat as she waved her hand, indicating the pick goo sticking to everything. "I would not mind so much if it was just bubbles, but he thought bubble gum would be so much more festive."

"I am here to collect you for breakfast. Minerva has turned it into some sort of celebration again," he said, looking at the mess Peeves had made and choosing to ignore the problem.

"You know how she has been these past few years," Poppy sighed, and took her wand off the desk, holding it by two fingers and looking at Severus.

He smirked and pulled out his wand, flicked it at hers and rid it of gum.

"Thanks." She shoved it in her pocket. "Minerva still thinks she should have done more. She seems to think she alone could have changed things. She thinks she could have saved young Weasley and Tonks if she had been quicker."

"She should know better." He scowled and shoved his hands in his pockets.

"I know, I may say the same for you."

"It is time for …"

"No, I will have my say." She put her hands on her hips and looked at him. "You were in here at least a dozen times a year as a student and more after that. I have reattached pieces of you left lying in fields and nursed you back to health more times then I remember after Voldemort had his fun with you. The last time was not even the worst. It may have been more painful for you, but it was not the worst injury you had."

"I am aware of that. However, now is not the …"

"No, you listen. You feel guilty because you lived. Simple as that." She poked her finger into his chest to make her point. "You did in the first war and you do now. Only the first time you were young and foolish. This time you should know better, just like Minerva should, and stop trying to act like a git all the time."

"You would be disappointed not to have someone to berate," he sneered at her. "I am here to serve."

"No, I can assure you I would not miss scolding you. You need someone to use as a scapegoat and now that Voldemort is gone you have only yourself. Buy a familiar and blame it until you learn to give it up, young man. Things will not get better until you do."

"I have been a year without pain. That is as much as I asked." He took the package from his pocket and grabbed her hand, shoving it into her grasp. "Now, shut up, witch, it is time to eat."

He turned on his heel and headed out the door, muttering about foolish witches and holidays foisted on him by a devil named Minerva.

Poppy scowled at the box in her hand, quickly setting it down lest it bite. She stood back and used her wand to flick open the lid, stepping closer and gingerly leaning forward to peek in. She felt the air leave her lungs as she sat heavily in her chair.

"My, Merlin!" She picked up the crystal, held it up to the light and felt dizzy with what she held in her hand. Tears began to form as she realized all the lives this could have saved during the final battle. She hurried out the door to find Severus but he was already gone. Knowing better to rush and thank him, she looked down at the crystal and smiled. She slid it back in the box, deposited it into her pocket, and went to have breakfast with Minerva.


	8. Wands and Things

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**Wands and Things**

* * *

The summer had been too short and too busy to worry about tuition, books, and the fact that she needed a new laptop. Hermione had met Richards's family and spent a week with his sister in Southampton, playing tourist as they took daily trips around the countyside and met some of the family.

They had visited Stonehenge and driven up to Avebury. She had thought she would die as Hannah made a quick left off the busy road and climbed the winding, dipping road up to the parking lot at Old Sarum. She hardly ever rode in a car anymore since she had taken the train to Hogwarts that last time before her seventh year. She threw her arms over her head and squealed as the car bounced over the dirt path and up to the top of the mound, then laughed when they reached the top and she saw Hannah's face was just as white as her own.

They had walked arm in arm around the ruins and climbed on top of the ancient mounds together, chatting about things Hermione had only recently re-aquatinted herself with. She made up her mind to get a television, or at least a radio, if for no other purpose then to make conversation easier. She remembered some of the images she had seen pop up on her laptop and managed to get through many talks by redirecting them to what she knew.

It was at Vespasian's Camp that Hermione felt the magic radiate up from the ground and knew without saying a word that she alone could see the small lodging in the centre of the earthen mound. She walked next to Hannah, glancing back and watching as a slender woman stepped out of the lodge and looked directly at her. Hermione turned away quickly, afraid the witch would strike up a conversation. She pulled Hannah away from the centre of the encampment and feigned interest at the view from the top of the earthen wall.

She was relieved to see the witch blend in with the other tourists and slowly walk down the path to the dirt road on the other side of the embankment. After that she kept her head lowered and looked only at what Hannah pointed out to her, having difficulty in discerning what a Muggle could see and what they could not.

She returned by train to her apartment the next day, needing to be someplace she could not be found out. The day trip to Vespasian's Camp had bothered her more than she knew it should. She stepped on the platform and smiled to see Richard hurrying toward her. He hugged her to him and picked her up, swinging her in a circle and laughing at her squeal of laughter at being back and feeling safe.

"I've missed you," he said into her hair. "Gone only a week and I miss you like bloody hell."

She looked up at him and bit her lip. "Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?"

"Do we have to eat?" He pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and looked down at her hungrily, as she blushed and looked around, afraid someone might overhear.

"No, but you may want to pick up some eggs for breakfast."

"Come on, I'll walk halfway with you. I have to get up to my office. Term starts next week and I have to …"

"Oh my." She stopped walking and turned to him. "I should have gone in two days ago. I forgot all about it. I have to find out if my application went through."

"I don't believe you forgot." Richard laughed, taking her arm as they began to walk again. "You are the most organized person I know. You even make lists of what lists you are working on."

"I have always done that. It helps me to think."

"Can I see my list?"

"Your list?" She turned red and looked straight ahead, knowing he was watching her from the corner of his eye.

"I am sure you have a list of pros and cons on me."

"I … it … maybe just a short one." She wrinkled her nose and looked at him quickly.

"Short on the pros or the cons?"

"Richard," she sighed and shook her head.

"I want to see the cons. I can work on them, or least I can explain them."

"I don't think you would understand my notes." She worried her lip, thinking of the red ink she had used as she wrote MUGGLE across the top line. She had stopped there, seeing in the letters that it was enough to fill the entire page.

They walked to the campus together, where she parted with him to hurry up to the administration building as he headed up to his office to work on the coming term's schedules. She left the office after not finding her name on the posted list and talking to the clerk. She thought of Snape standing behind the pub telling her she would not get the scholarship, and cursed him as if the saying of it had made it so.

She fought tears as she hurried back to her apartment, where she threw her purse on the floor with her jumper and stomped into the kitchen to put on a pot of water for tea. She had enough money left for rent or one of the two terms she had left in school. She knew even if she took on more hours at the library that she could not make it. She picked up a cup and threw it against the wall, then leaned her arms on the counter top and tried to stop her anger.

She thought of Richard and felt tears prickling at the back of her eyes as she imagined his look when she told him she would be leaving school. His contract was up in four months, and she should be finishing school in seven. She looked down at the ring on her right hand, took a deep breath, and stood up to measure out the tea.

She had hoped and even prayed that this day would never come. She wanted to lie to him, and hide with him until he left, and then she would let him walk away. Just four more months, she silently prayed, just four more months and she could let him go. She squeezed her eyes closed and prayed to just have those four months.

"Damn," she said aloud when she heard a knock on her door. She had hoped not to see Richard until she could formulate a plan; now she thought wildly of what to say to him. She pulled the door, stepping aside to let him in, keeping her eyes on the floor.

"That is a bad habit to get into, opening the door without knowing who is behind it." Hearing Snape's voice, she jumped and stepped back.

"What the fuck do you want?" she sneered.

"I see you have picked up the local vernacular quite well."

"I asked you a question."

"Do you want to discuss this in the hallway or shall I step in?"

"The hallway." She folded her arms and glared at him.

"Fine." He pulled his hand out of his pocket and shoved a small box at her.

She stepped back and looked at him warily. "What is it?"

"A wand." He smirked.

"Git," she said as she grabbed the box, opened it up and looked at a diamond-studded stickpin. "Sure doesn't look like a wand."

"It is charmed." He put his hand to the bridge of his nose. "Shall we still continue on in the hallway?"

She rolled her eyes and stepped aside to let him in.

"I just put a pot of tea on," she said.

"Is that an offer or more information that you wish to impart to me?"

"Neither, it is a hint for you to hurry so I can drink my tea while it is hot." She smirked at him.

"Miss Granger, I have no wish to interfere with your tea. However, I do need to explain about the pin."

"What is this?" She looked at the stickpin again.

"It is in fact a wand. A hidden one. It will not be fit to you as your real one. However, in the case of an emergency any wand will be useful. If you would be so good as to hold the pin in you hand, without saying a word, I shall explain it."

She looked at him warily and then walked to the kitchen and grabbed the teapot. Pouring out two beakers, she put them on the table and pointed to a chair.

"Five minutes." She glared at him and waited until he sat to look at the stickpin again.

"Miss Granger, please take it out of the box and hold it in your right hand. Do so silently, please."

"Fuck!" She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. She had managed to stab herself with the point of the stickpin and now stood and glared at him.

"Miss Granger," he said with a sigh, and his hand went to the bridge of his nose again. "Now, albeit it is a little late, let me explain the use of the pin."

Hermione sucked at the heel of her hand and looked at him strangely, wondering what she had done.

"The pin may be worn in open sight of Muggles. They will see it, but obviously will have no idea what it is." He picked up his cup and took a swallow. "To active the charm, take the pin again in your right hand and say the password."

Hermione looked at the pin that lay on the table and picked it up. "What is the password?"

"The first word you say after picking it up. If you remember, Miss Granger, I did ask for your silence."

She smirked at him and then started to laugh. "So, if I say, you know, it will turn into a wand?"

"Yes, Miss Granger."

"Fuck," she said, laughing as the pin instantly became a wand. "How do I shrink it down again?"

"Repeat the word," he said, then held up his hand. "Quietly, Miss Granger, quietly."

She shrunk it down to size and then sat at the table with him as she attached the pin to her tee. "I shouldn't wear this, you know. I am trying to … well, I am still trying to fit in here. I thank you. I think it will make me feel safer."

"Safer, Miss Granger? The purpose is to afford you medical assistance if you should need it or, in case of an accident, you may contact us to come to your assistance. It is not advisable for a witch attempting to hide to seek treatment in a Muggle emergency setting. A severe trauma may make it impossible to control your magic and endanger those around you."

"Yes, that too." She smiled weakly at him.

"Minerva will be curious as to your schooling." He scowled at her reaction to the charmed stickpin.

"Minerva will?" She smiled at him and saw how uncomfortable he became. "It appears that you were correct, Professor. I do not qualify for a scholarship based on the year I am in, and the fact that I did not complete the necessary paperwork in a timely fashion eliminates any financial help."

"Shacklebolt has made many changes in the Ministry, including the hiring practices. Many of the small shops are reopening in the Alley, and in Hogsmeade employment would now be an option."

"No, Professor." She shook her head. Then, picking up her cup in both hands and looking at him, she grinned. "I have known you for what now? Fifteen, sixteen years? This is the first time we sat down and had a cup of tea together."

"You are avoiding the discussion."

"No, Professor, I am changing the topic." She grinned over the rim of her teacup.

"Perhaps we should discuss the broken china on your floor and the crash I heard when coming up the steps?" he purred at her.

"I am sorry you must run off so soon, Professor." She stood up and grabbed the tea from his hands. "Perhaps we can do it again in sixteen years."

"Minerva will want to know what your plans are." He stood and crossed his arms over his chest as he sneered at her.

"I am sure you would," she said evenly, then turned away so he could not see her lip begin to tremble.

"Vickie? Are you home?" Richards's voice cut through from the next room.

Hermione spun around to look at Snape, who now stood with a smirk on his face and a lifted eyebrow.

"Richard! In here." She looked at Snape and glared as she pushed past him and went to meet Richard.

"I was just having tea with an old friend, he was just leaving." She took Richard's arm and turned back to Snape. "Weren't you, Professor?"

"Yes, quite true. However, I have not met your friend, Miss… Vickie." He smirked and turned to Richard. "Professor Snape, Professor Severus Snape. I met Vickie when she was a student of mine at a very exclusive school in Scotland. Perhaps she has told you of it?"

"No," Richard said, looking at Hermione strangely. "She has never mentioned it. Forgive me, sir."

He stepped forward and held out his hand. "Richard, Richard Hayes. I am a Professor of Literature at the University here, although my specialty is ancient languages. Did you say your field of study?"

Snape stepped forward and took Richard's hand with his right as his left pulled his wand and quickly lifted it to the man's forehead. "_Legilimens!_" he whispered.

"Bastard!" Hermione tried to push him away only to have Snape pull her against him with his right hand and hold her still as his left held the wand to Richard.

He quickly looked into Richard's mind, turning corners and opening doors. He caught a sight of Hermione walking away with only a towel wrapped around her and turned to open more doors, seeking what he hoped to find.

He ran down a staircase he saw in his mind and found Richards's childhood. He moved forward and, seeing only Muggle schools and Muggles surrounding him, he turned to run past more images to get back to the present to discern the man he was. He saw Richard standing in front of a class, and saw him as he held Hermione in his arms, and knew what he felt for her. He stepped back, releasing Hermione and incanting a simple memory charm on the man in front of him.

"It has been a pleasure, Mr. Hayes." He nodded and walked to the door.

"I will walk you down, Professor." Hermione clenched her teeth together and glared at him.

"No, please do not bother. I can find my way." He smirked at her and walked out the door, closing it behind him.

"Strange man," Richard said with his eyes still on the door.

"That, my dear, is known as an understatement of magnificent proportions." Hermione stood, staring at the closed door.

.

.

.

.

Minerva sat with Severus in her office and reached to pour their second cup of tea.

"Did she say what she would do?" Minerva looked up while holding the pot over his cup. "Surly she is a smart witch. She would not have gone off without having thought this out."

"I spoke to her Headmaster and I made a side trip to the financial office. It seems our Miss Ganger was sure she could complete the four year course in two."

"As she should have," Minerva sniffed.

"She was put behind her estimation. The use of computers and the added expense of laptops and the mechanical items she had to purchase to go with it was something she had not foreseen." Severus took his cup and leaned back in his chair. "I am sure if Miss Granger could handwrite her reports and such she would have been fine. However, the usage of the new machines has lowered her confidence and has had a disastrous effect on her."

"What else? Is she planning on coming back?" Minerva looked down at her cup and shook her head before looking back up at Severus. "Surely she has come to terms with her past by now."

"Minerva, she is a Muggle-born and saw and did things in a war she was not ready for. She needs to accept that before she can move on." He placed his cup down on the table. "She still has not accepted that she is a witch living as a Muggle. She seems to think of herself as a Muggle first, who happens to be witch."

"Many of our students are as she is and they have handled it just fine."

"No, very few. Most have at least one parent from this world and one from the Muggle. Some, such as young Mr. Potter, although raised in the Muggle world are magical by birthright, and accept it much quicker. Miss Granger still feels torn. She never accepted this one fully and she still carries the guilt of a child over what she did to her parents."

"She adjusted well. She was in my house. I would have seen the signs." Minerva shook her head. "No, Severus, I will not accept that. She was fully adjusted to this world."

"She could say the charms and spells, and she seemed happy, Minerva, but she never said good-bye to her old life. The war came, and she took it on herself to foolishly modify her parent's memory and send them out of the country. No, Minerva, she carries a lot of guilt and has so far not been able to come to terms with it."

"She did what she thought was right." Minerva felt the sting of tears in her own eyes. "If she had asked we would have put them in a safe house, perhaps in France. She just never asked."

"She was caught up in the excitement that only a child can find in the romantic visions of war and rushing off to help. Minerva, she is not ready to return until she can fully accept what she is, what she has done to her parents, and what happened during the war and forgives herself."

"And you, Severus? Have you forgiven yourself?"

"I am not the one we are speaking of." He stood stiffly and walked to the window. "I have come to terms with my life, if that is your question."

"My question was concerning forgiveness. Sometimes that forgiveness does not come from others. Tell me, Severus, does she have friends? Has she been able to at least make a connection in her world?"

Severus chuckled and turned back to Minerva. "You may say that. If she allows it to continue, she has found a very good _friend_."


	9. Falling Apart Again

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**Falling Apart Again**

* * *

"Listen, I have been over this with you before, I need to know." Hermione drummed the fingers on the counter, glaring at the clerk.

"Yes, we _have_ been over this before, and it is the same now as it has been all term." The clerk looked over Hermione's shoulder at the growing line. "It is a matter of privacy and I can't give you that information."

"Privacy?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "It is my account! How can payments on my account be private?"

"It's paid. That's all I can tell you." The clerk looked down at the file and the stamp that covered the top of the first page. The original file sat in the Director's office, sealed, and only accessible by himself and the Headmaster. "I really am sorry, Vickie, but I don't even have the information."

Hermione pick up her books, hugged them to her chest and stomped out of the office, looking at the floor and muttering under her breath. She was furious that Richard had denied doing this. How dare he interfere and pretend he had no knowledge of it? If he thought this would help her to decide to move the ring to her other hand he was sorely mistaken. She would not be manipulated.

She had spent time with his family, having a hard time at first fitting in to a family again. When he had merely called her on the phone, and talked to her while she was with Hannah, Hermione had felt at home and peace for the first time in years. She looked at pictures of him, as he walked with his arm in his sister's, and smiled, thinking how much she yearned to be with him. When he walked into a room, she felt her breath leave her. When she caught him looking at her at odd times she felt safe, wanted, and strangely free.

Now all she saw was betrayal and his controlling nature. She refused to be controlled, to be pushed in a corner and told what to do. She was done with that. She felt a fist clenching in her chest and saw her vision shimmer with anger. She stopped in the middle of the hall and spun to the staircase, climbing up to the third floor and to his office. She burst into the room and saw him standing behind the desk, with a long-haired blond standing in front of him, her hand on his cheek, and him leaning down as if ready to kiss her.

"Vickie!" He stood up and looked at her as she ran from the room in tears.

Her books slipped out of her hands as she clutched the banister to keep from falling. She kept putting one foot in front of the other, no longer able to see where she was going. Feeling arms around her waist, she twisted to get away only to be held firmer. She felt caught by hands she could not see and she could smell fire, and the sound of falling stones filled her ears.

"No, Vic, no." He pulled her to him. "It's not what you think. She's my sister-in-law. There is nothing to it. Bloody hell, stop fighting me, we will both land at the bottom of the stairs."

"Miss Gardner, I assure you he is telling the truth." The blond from his office hurried down the stairs towards them. "I am married to Henry, his older brother. Please come back up stairs. Truly, it must have looked awful to you, but it was nothing. I just arrived, please come back."

Hermione looked up at him and pulled angrily away. Lifting her arm, she struck him with her open hand as hard as she could across his face.

"You bastard!" she thundered at him. "You paid my tuition without telling me. You made a fool of me. I have been down there yelling at the cashier for the past hour. Then I come up here and find this."

"Vickie?" Richard brought his hand to his face, feeling the blood in the corner of his mouth. "What the bloody hell has gotten into you?"

"I came to tell you we are done." She pulled the ring off her finger and shoved it at him. "I've heard this before. Nice words, always nice words, then they tell me what to do and just wait for someone else to do their work. Always telling me what to do and then leaving me alone when I need help getting out. No, I won't be shoved into it again. I can't do this again. I won't."

Richard was stunned. He had no idea what had just happened, apart from the misunderstanding in his office. It was obvious that something else had upset her, but he had no idea what. He looked into her face and was not sure she was seeing him. Her eyes looked haunted and darted around, as if searching the corners and shadows.

"Take it, take it." Hermione held the ring out to him, trembling, and then flung it at his face as she turned and ran down the stairs.

"So, that's her?" Lisa frowned at him. "I would say run after her, but you may need to let her cool down a minute."

"What happened?" He leaned over the railing, looking down to the bottom in time to see Hermione reach the lobby and run for the main doors. "What was she talking about? I don't understand."

"She's yours. You should have some idea what you did." Lisa pulled out a tissue from her purse and dabbed at the cut on his bottom lip.

"Professor? Are you all right?" A third year student smirked and elbowed his companion. "Sure looks like you messed up."

"You are going to be late for class," he muttered, looking over the railing again. "Lisa? What did I do?"

"No class today, Professor." The young man walked over and peered over the railing with him. "Some temper, hey?"

"Yeah, I guess." Richard looked at the youth and then stood up looking at his sister-in-law. "Lisa, I have no idea what happened."

"Yep, they are all the same, hey Professor?" The student shook his head and walked over to his friend. "Flowers may help."

His friend bent over, picked up the ring from the floor, and stepped forward to hand it to Richard. "Sure glad she's not mad at me. I have a lesson with her once a week. She is a strange one, wouldn't trust her."

Richard and Lisa watched them walk off then Lisa turned to him. "He's right. Try flowers."

"Flowers? For what?" He gaped at her, then peeked over the railing again. "I don't know what I am apologizing for."

"Get used to it." She smirked at him then took his arm, pulling him back into his office.

He waited an hour before following her. An hour was long enough for the edge to fall off her anger and soon enough that she would still know he was concerned. He rubbed his jaw and winced at the pain when he touched the joint at the side of his face.

He left full of advice of the type of flower, the fullness of the blooms and the colour he should buy. He was not aware that even offering an apology for something he was not sure he had done could be so complicated. Nor had he known how hard it would be to find what he needed on a snowy Christmas Eve.

"Jake!" he shouted from the front door when he did not see the shopkeeper at his usual place. "I need help."

"Hi, Professor, sorry. I was on the phone to my Mum. Christmas and all." He smiled meekly and walked up to the counter.

"Jake, I need flowers and have no idea where to get them. The florist over on ninth closed at three and the market down on first doesn't carry them."

"Real flowers? I don't know, Professor. All we have are those chocolate things on sticks."

"Show me." Richard looked around and saw a vase full of chocolate shaped roses on top of long green wood sticks with plastic leaves glued on them. "Bloody hell, man, who would buy those?"

"You." Jake smirked and counted out an even dozen. He wrapped them in a cone made from newspaper and handed them to the stricken man.

"I have that makeup women put on their faces to cover up pimples. It may hide that hand mark." Jake fought not to laugh. "Vickie, right?"

"Right, Vickie."

"Ya know, Professor, maybe I shouldn't say anything but, I don't know." He bit his lip and looked at Richard. "She is real nice, don't get me wrong, but something is wrong there. I can't put my finger on it but she is just a little off."

"Off?" Richard wrinkled his brow and looked at Jake hard.

"Maybe it's just me, but have you seen that tall guy, always wears black? Always hanging around?"

"He is her old teacher. Says he's from someplace up in Scotland, Professor or something."

"Scotland? Accent's all wrong," Jake said. "Anyway, he is here a lot. Watches her, he does. Just stands back and watches all the time. Maybe once a month I've seen him since she's been here, sometimes more."

Richard picked up the roses and threw his money on the counter. "Thanks for the… roses. I sure everything will be fine. He called himself Professor, maybe he has business up at the University."

"No, not that one. Don't even think he is a real Professor. He has a strange tattoo on his arm. Saw it once when he was reaching for something off that back shelf over there, and he dresses all wrong. Like one of those Goth kids down in London. Like I said, it's nothing but it is odd all the same."

Richard took up the chocolate roses and walked up the hill, thinking about what Jake had said. He wondered who this man he had once met was, and remembered how she would not talk of her past. He felt a slow flush as he realized she could be making a fool of him. He didn't want to believe it. Looking up to her window as he approached the apartment, he prayed he was wrong.

Richard was ready to knock when he heard angry voices coming from her apartment. He debated if he should go in, tempted to stand at the door and listen. Then remembering her face on the stairs and her incoherent words, and Jake's warning, he brought up his fist and pounded loudly on the door.

Hermione opened the door and stepped into the hallway, looking quickly over her shoulder. "What do you want, Richard?"

"I think we need to talk." He frowned down at her and grabbed her shoulders. "You need to tell me what is going on."

"No, not now. I need to think, Richard. I need time."

"Year's up, Vic," he said softly so his voice would not carry into the room behind her. "I leave in two weeks. I have given my notice, and my lease is up."

She twisted her hands together and looked back over her shoulder again. She turned to him and saw her hand print on his face, and with a gasp, her hand went up to his cheek.

"I didn't mean it." Her eyes started to tear up. "I mean I did hit you, but… I was wrong. I thought you… I remembered… oh gods, Richard, not now."

"Why is he here?"

"I can't tell you that. You have to trust me, please."

"I trust you, Vic, I expect you to trust me." He tipped up her chin, making her look at him. "I love you, you know."

She looked at his face and suddenly started to giggle. "You look stupid with my hand print."

"I feel stupid," he said with a smirk. "I bought you these. Now tell me how stupid I look."

She took the chocolate roses and tried to suppress a snort of laughter. "This has to be the worst gift I have ever received. I love them."

She looked up at him and tried to smile before looking back at the door.

"My bother comes home, sends his wife to collect me for lunch and I am the one to offer an apology. Woman, you make me crazy." He laughed and leaned down to kiss her softly. "Forgiven?"

She nodded her head and giggled. "I guess so, but I have no idea for what. I can't think right now. There's too much, too much to think about."

"Would it be wrong of me to ask you what happened back there?" He raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "I mean, I think I understand about Lisa, but I didn't pay your tuition. You said you had it covered. Vic, if you are having financial problems just tell me. I can help, I told you that."

"I thought you had interfered and gotten information on my account. I told you I know I was wrong."

"Would it have mattered if I had? Why would it make you so angry?"

"I… it reminds me … I just can't accept things like that, it makes me just feel wrong. Like you are buying me or something."

"You always have a problem accepting things. Including me, don't you? Why can't you just believe I am here because I want to be?"

"Richard, not now. We can talk later. Tonight, after he leaves."

"Who is he, Vickie? I have a right to know. This story of an old teacher doesn't fit." He scowled at her, prepared to hear what he thought she would say of old lovers visiting, or new ones coming to her.

She looked back over her shoulder to her door. "He is just someone I know from way back. We were just having a discussion."

"I don't want to finish this in the hallway, and I know this is more than a discussion. I won't lose you like this, Vickie. If you don't want me here then say it, but not like this. Don't lie to me. Don't tell me he is nothing if he's not."

"Gods, Richard, no." She reached for him only to have him hold her wrist and shake his head at her.

"Tell me Vickie, tell me who he is."

"No one important, Richard. He is no one. Just an old teacher like I said."

"Then you won't mind if I go in."

"I don't mind, but it's not a good time is all. Next time maybe, but not now."

He reached behind her and opened the door. "No, Vickie. Now."

.

.

.

.

Minerva was pacing her office, something she found herself doing whenever Severus left to see Hermione. She was worried that he had taken it on himself to pay the girl's tuition. She knew Hermione was fiercely proud and wanted to be as equally independent. She could almost hear the fight they would have if Hermione found out, and if the lateness of Severus' return was any indication, she already knew.

Minerva flicked her wand at the teapot, sending it back to the kitchen, and waited for a fresh pot. She looked out to the grounds and sighed, seeing only Neville and Luna walking up to the castle. She smiled at the way Neville kept his arm around Luna as if she were fragile and would lose the child she carried merely by walking. Minerva had already placed her name in the staff's betting pool on which curriculum the child would take.

She smiled and nodded to herself, thinking how pleased Hermione would be. The four houses now were divided by years. The first and second Years were housed in the old Hufflepuff chambers while the third and fourth found themselves in Ravenclaw. The fifth and sixth years moved to Gryffindor, and the seventh lived in the old Slytherin chambers in the dungeons. Gone were house points, and the house's colours reflected in the robes now only showed the year of completion.

Minerva waved the house-elf toward the table with the tea tray, and poured herself a cup, wondering how Severus would have benefited from not living with only Slytherins. She thought back over the years and remembered how young Crabbe had been lost in the fire, and thought if he had other options than to follow Draco perhaps he too would still be alive.

She shook her head and sighed, thinking of Draco. He still carried guilt that his father had heaped on his shoulders and the boy had crumbled under the weight. She never saw the lad now without a scowl on his face. She needed to speak to Narcissa, she thought. Perhaps she could do something.

She returned to her window and watched, and hoped that at least the two she waited for tonight, still at odds with themselves, could find their peace and both come home.


	10. The Ninth Christmas

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**The Ninth Christmas**

* * *

Richard pushed Hermione into the room ahead of him and quickly closed the door, standing in front of it when she turned to run behind him and leave.

"I see you are a fast learner." Snape stood with a scowl on his face, watching Hermione with eyes that had grown dark with anger. "Whenever things get too much she runs."

"Professor Snape, if I remember correctly," Richard said evenly.

"Professor Hayes," Severus said, nodding toward him but keeping his eyes pinned on Hermione.

"Oh bloody hell." Hermione stomped to the kitchen. "It's Richard and Severus. If we are going to be stuck in here together at least get on a first name basis."

"What would your first name be, _Miss Granger_?" he sneered at her.

"Gardner," Richard said, following Hermione into the kitchen.

Hermione glared at Snape as he stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame as Richard leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before taking a seat at the table.

"No, I believe when I first met Miss…"

"Okay, Professor, we are done here. I believe you have interfered enough for one day," she hissed at him.

"Vickie?" Richard took her hand in his and looked at her. "What is …?"

Snape let out a bark of laughter, bringing Hermione to her feet. "So help me, Snape, if you say it I am going to…"

"Why, _Miss Granger_, I think quite enough has been said for one day." He smirked at her.

"Granger?" Richard looked at Hermione as he stood. "Vickie?"

She turned and looked at him, feeling as if he had thrown ice water at her face. She was finding it difficult to breathe as she lowered her head and started out of the kitchen.

"Running again, _Miss Granger_?" Snape hissed as she pushed past him. He grabbed her elbow and spun her back to him. "You interfering little bint. You wanted to play this game, now we play it."

Richard was over to them in two strides. He pulled Hermione away from Severus, putting himself between the two.

"Richard! NO!" Hermione screamed, afraid Severus would reach for his wand. "Please, I am fine. He is leaving now. He is, really. Richard, he can hurt you, please don't."

"What is it, Snape? Are you leaving quietly or are we going to have to settle this some other way?" Richard glowered at Severus.

"You want her? That witch?" Severus pointed at Hermione. "Ask her how she plans on getting rid of you. She is good at that. She takes what she needs and then leaves."

Richard tried to take a step toward Severus, raising his arm only to feel Hermione hold on to him, leaning with all her weight on his arm. He tried to push her away and get to Severus, looking down at her he tried to pry her off his arms only to feel her nails dig into his arm.

She saw Severus' right hand go under his left sleeve and knew that was where he kept his wand. She let go of Richard to run to her room where her own wand was on the top shelf of the closet in a box, tucked under years worth of living. Severus took two strides forward and caught her, pulling her to him.

"Where is it?" He could feel her heart beat against his chest as he held her tightly. "I will know before I leave. If you think you know me and what I am capable of you only know the tip of it."

Richard took Hermione by the shoulder and pulled her back, then brought his hand up against Severus' chest pushing him back suddenly. He stepped toward the wizard clenching his fist, not understanding what he was about to start.

"My gods! Richard, no! He doesn't know what he is doing, Severus. Please." She managed to pull Richard back and looked at Severus as tears coursed down her face. "You have done enough for one day, Snape. Get the bloody hell out of here. Leave him alone."

Severus turned on his heel and went into the other room where he proceeded to pull Hermione's books onto the floor, emptying the bookcase as he searched for her journal.

"Who is he, Vickie!" Richard turned to her. "Tell me now, who he is to you."

Hearing the sound of things falling and glass breaking in the outer room, she shook her head at Richard and turned to stop Severus.

"It's not here. If you are looking for the instructions they are not here." She ran to grab his arm and pull him back from her bookshelves. "Leave, just leave before I lose everything…please."

Severus looked at Richard and then smirked at Hermione. "Where is it, _Miss Granger_, or should we bare all?"

"Poppy, she destroyed it," she whispered. "Now leave. Please just leave before you ruin even this. Must I lose everything? Please, this is all I have left. Only a few weeks more, please."

She slumped to her knees as Richard hurried to her, squatted down and pulled her to him. He looked up at Severus in question only to see him turn and walk out the door.

"Vickie, talk to me. What did he want? What was this all about?"

She pulled away from him and ran to the loo, where she fell on her knees to vomit. He hurried after her, holding a cool, wet flannel on her neck until she was done, and then supported her at the sink, helping her to clean her mouth and brush her teeth. When she was done, he picked her up and laid her on her bed, climbing in next to her and pulling her back to his chest.

She could not think past the anger on Severus' face and the confusion and hurt on Richard's. She could not breathe and wanted to sleep and wake up to summer when this would all be past. She sobbed until she could no more and wanted to stay wrapped in the cocoon of his arms forever. She knew it was over, that she would send him away in the morning. If she kept him close he would find out, and if doing so put him in danger, she would send him away and be glad that he was safe.

"Richard," she said, turning her head up to look back at him. "Make love to me? Please, Richard I need you tonight. Please don't leave until morning."

.

.

.

"Vickie?" Richard leaned over and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear. "Are you ok?"

She nodded and turned her head further away from him, embarrassed and unable to look at him. She had wanted, had even asked him to take her, then she had cried as he lay over her. She had pulled him to her, desperately and quickly found her own release, only to push him away angrily, denying him his.

"I'm sorry, Richard. I don't know what is happening to me. I feel I am going mad."

He chuckled then kissed her neck. "I guessed that by what you just did. It's okay, Vickie. I need you here with me. Talk to me, don't turn away. We can still make this work."

"You won't understand."

"Try me, maybe I can surprise you. I want to marry you, Vickie. No matter what this is we can get though it."

He climbed out of bed and walked to the kitchen to make her the kind of coffee she liked and to find something for breakfast.

"Happy Christmas," he called back over his shoulder to her. "Come out here and keep me company."

"Happy Christmas," she said, not wanting to get up and face what she knew was coming.

She heard him moving around the kitchen and then quickly slid on a pair of jeans and pulled a tee over her head. She walked to the kitchen, stopping to survey the damage in the sitting area.

"Come on, we can clean that up later." Richard stood in the door looking at her. "We need to talk first. And then you are invited to drive down to Hannah's with me. You must have really hit it off with her. I think the only reason she invited me this year was to see you."

"I like her. We had a good time last summer." She looked up at him sadly.

"Good. She is sort of the family matriarch since Mum passed. You can see what kind of children this family produces." He grinned at her. "All smart, beautiful and precocious. You've only met her two. Trust me, with three sisters and two brothers all married with children it is quite a turnout. It gets noisy as hell and I love it."

Hermione followed him into the kitchen, taking her place at the table. She reached for the coffee pot and poured them each a cup as he rummaged around in the fridge until he found a container of strawberries and grabbed a bunch of bananas from the counter tossed them on the table.

"Breakfast." He nodded to the fruit and then sat, holding his beaker in both hands and resting his forearms on the table. "Talk."

She snapped her head up and locked her eyes on his. "I don't know what to say to you."

"Start with your name," he said coldly.

"Granger."

"Why did you lie to me?"

She looked down at the table and shook her head.

"Does that mean you won't tell me? It must, because it can't mean you don't know."

She was unable to raise her eyes to meet his. "Richard, I am sorry, I…"

"Sorry? Bloody hell." He raised his voice as he stood up. "What was he looking for?"

"I don't know. He was…"

"Stop. No more lies." He waited for her to talk and saw her turn her face from him. "Now, what was he looking for?"

She looked at up at him and felt her world spinning away from her. She wanted to reach for him, and tell him everything but she could not bring herself to do it. She knew his look would change if she told him what she was. She knew he would run.

"Vickie, please talk to me." He squatted down in front of her and drew the pad of his thumb over her jawline and down her throat. "Whatever it is we can get through this."

"It is not safe," she whispered to him, leaning into his touch. "Everyone I know, everyone I knew…. it's not safe."

"What are you talking about? Vickie, I need to understand."

Hermione raised her head to look at him. "Richard, I think you should leave. I don't want to love you anymore."

"What is your first name? I don't even know who I am talking to."

"I can't tell you, I won't. Leave, just leave me alone."

"This Snape, does he come here often?"

She looked back at the table. Squeezing her eyes shut, she put one hand over her mouth to hold back the sobs and shook her head.

"Is this it, Vickie? Is this how you want it to end?" he asked softly, with anger behind every word.

She heard him walk into the bedroom, and the rustle of fabric, and then she heard the front door open and close.

Running to the window, she put her hand to the glass and watched him walk away, wanting to run after him and pull him back. She sunk to her knees and cursed Snape for coming and herself for not having enough courage.

Richard walked back to campus and up to his office. He no longer wanted to see his sister or to celebrate the holiday with his family. He leaned his arms on his desk and played the last two days over in his head, trying to discern what had happened.

He unlocked the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out the pair of antique crystal goblets he had bought her. He picked them up, one in each hand, and held them to the sunlight that came though window, seeing the dance of colour against the opposite wall. With a yell of anger, he threw them at the wall and screamed out in rage as they shattered and fell to the floor.

Then picking up the bottle of vodka he had planned to give the head of the History Department for the holiday, he found he would rather put it to his own use. _Granger_, he thought as he tipped the bottle to his mouth and drank the colourless liquid quickly, feeling it burn down the back of his throat. _Granger._ He heard it again and he closed his eyes and saw her face on the back of his eyelids. He knew of only one way a woman could easily change her last name. He brought the bottle back to his lips determined to forget her and Snape, who seemed to have easy access to her rooms.

.

.

Severus had been furious when he helped Poppy rearrange the infirmary and came across his old file. With a smirk at the knowledge that Poppy would keep records on all the injuries that he had received and the potions she had supplied, he opened the file to flip through it. That is when he found the receipt from St. Mungo's for the potion.

He had picked up the receipt in his long, thin fingers, scowling at the name of Granger as the potion maker, and a partial list of ingredients that may interact with other potions, as required when administering a test potion not yet approved for use. He read down the list, raising an eyebrow as he saw what she had done and then froze when he saw the last item. He crumpled the parchment in his hand and shoved it in his pocket.

_How dare she_, he thought. He knew how long it would take to separate the blood of Nagini to find Voldemort's essence and infuse it into the potion. He knew from the other ingredients that she had thought to find Voldemort's, for Voldemort was immune to the venom of the snake, and by infusing it in him she gave him the same immunity.

He now had Voldemort's blood infused in his. He shut his eyes to concentrate and to control his rage. He heard the sound of his own heart in his ears, and felt a rush of adrenalin he had not felt since the final battle.

Grabbing his cloak, he had rushed to find her and get the complete list of ingredients and the procedures she had used to create this potion that reeked of the black arts. He needed to reverse this. He would rather live with the pain than be linked like this to the Dark Lord forever.

.

.

.

.

Minerva heard his footfalls before she heard the pounding. She opened up the door and stepped aside, waving him to the table that the teapot sat on.

"I am sure you would like something stronger. However, in you present state that is all you get."

"Minerva I have just been to see Hermione." He walked to her liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine, sneered, set it down and found the whisky he wanted.

"One, Severus, you are an ugly drunk," she said hotly as she sat and smoothed her skirt.

"Fine." Severus slammed the bottle down on the table after taking a long pull. "One bottle, one drink."

"So, you found out what she did." Minerva narrowed her eyes. "I am sure you appreciate her efforts."

"I do not," he stormed at her. "How dare she, how dare she do this without my knowledge."

"What have you done to her, Severus?" Minerva looked at him as she raised her chin, looking down her nose at him. "I warn you, Severus, you leave that girl alone."

"She is alone." He smirked at her. "I am sure she is more alone now than ever before."

"I asked you a question. I expect you to answer me." Minerva looked at him evenly.

"Now, children," Albus' voice came from his portrait. "Let us have a quiet evening. It is, after all, Christmas. Happy Christmas, Severus, and to you, my dear Minerva."

Severus stood up and yanked the picture from the wall, strode to the door and pitched it into the hallway. "I have had enough of that old fool for a lifetime."

"Severus, really," she said, hurrying to the hall to retrieve the portrait. Carrying it back into her room, she clicked her tongue and glared at Severus.

Looking at the portrait, she sighed. "I am sure you will understand that I cannot invite you this Christmas, Albus. Perhaps I will have a drink with you when my guest has left."

She leaned the picture on the floor, facing the wall, and with a gentle pat to the top of the frame returned to Severus. She snatched the bottle from his hand and replaced it in her liquor cabinet.

"That is quite enough for you, young man."

"Minerva, she had no right to do this. I have contacted Poppy, who I must say rather rudely dismissed me."

"Poppy? You expect her to come back on Christmas because you are upset over something that you have benefited from?"

"It is not a benefit, it is dark magic."

"Oh, really? Let's not be melodramatic about this. It is perhaps on the grey side, but it is not dark magic."

"Grey? Grey?" Severus stood and began to pace. "It is black, dark was being kind, and you say grey?"

"Severus, I am sure that she did not realize that." Minerva calmly reached for her tea.

"Do you somehow forget how he was reconstructed? Do you remember that blood was needed? Blood infused in a potion that now runs in my veins. Do you mean to tell me she did not know exactly what she was doing?"

He ran his hands though his hair and then returned and sat heavily in the chair. "I would rather the pain, Minerva. I would rather death than risk him again."

"She destroyed all her notes, Severus. She destroyed even the cauldrons she used." Minerva leaned forward and peered into his eyes, frowning. "Poppy should not have saved anything to do with the potion. It was the condition Hermione gave us all."

"There, by your own admission she knew what she did."

"No, she knew how you would react. Further, she knew by destroying all evidence no one would ever know about the potion. As only Poppy, I and Hermione knew of the pain you were in she mad a wise choice."

"Why did she hide it from me? She knew or she would have …"

"Severus, is this not what the Muggles do all the time?"

"No, this is different. This is not a serum, a mere vaccination or anti-biotic. Minerva, this is the dark arts I tell you."

"Oh stop it now. You would not have taken it if you knew what was in it, or that Hermione had brewed it herself. I think it is more the fact that she found a cure you could not that irks you the most."

"Nonsense," he spat at her.

"Is it?" She smiled sweetly at him. "Are you sure? If Albus were here and handed you a potion, assuring you that although it was made by infusing Tom's immunity it was safe, would you have taken it willingly?"

"Minerva, this is different."

"Why? Because a mere girl made it for you?"

"She is not a girl."

"A Muggle-born?"

"Do you forget where I grew up, old woman?"

"One of the trio?" Minerva clicked her tongue at him.

"Trio," he sneered. "Two fools and an arrogant bint."

"The truth of it is simple. You would buy a potion, but not accept it from a friend. You have no trust in anyone, Severus. You have no faith in those who would consider you a friend."

"You have sat under that portrait for too long. Now you even sound like the old man."

"Perhaps," she sighed. "You carry your guilt the same as she. You do not think you are good enough for friendship. You run from it like the plague."

Severus leaned back in his chair and looked at her coldly, feeling exposed and open under her gaze.

"Tell me, Severus," she said, then took a sip of her tea. "Why do you think she was so upset when she found who had paid her tuition?"

Severus leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, and looked up at her, only shaking his head.

"I thought to help her." He shrugged his shoulders and looked away from her gaze. "It was nothing more."

"And you paid the tuition for Tonks' son for the same reason?"

He looked at her and nodded his head. "It is the least I could do. I trust you to keep your silence on this."

"She is afraid, Severus. She is afraid it came with strings as everything else has come to her." Minerva watched him, and then turned to set her cup down. "Now leave the girl alone. Let her see that you ask nothing of her."

"I only asked …"

"I know that. She does not. We brought her here and expected too much or her. We allowed her to run with Mr. Potter and expected her to help him. She was allowed, at Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley's insistence, to join the Order and thrust into a war. Everything she was _given _has cost her dearly. We gave her the secret of a safe house and it cost her parents their memories of her. She now thinks her education will cost her. Leave the child alone, Severus, leave her alone to find her way."


	11. Graduation

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**Graduation**

* * *

"So, tomorrow's the big day?" Jake put Hermione's groceries in to her knapsack for her. "Family coming?"

"Umm, no, they are out of the county. Holiday, you know." Hermione put her money on the counter and picked up her knapsack. "Thanks, Jake."

"I haven't seen that friend of yours 'round lately."

Hermione looked up at him, puzzled.

"The professor from the school, you know," he said in answer to her look of confusion.

"Oh, Richard - his name is Richard Hayes. No, he left for a new job in January." She became suddenly interested in the strap on her knapsack.

"No, I know him. I mean the other one. The one that always wears the same thing and has that tattoo on his arm and all."

She looked at him without saying a word, slinging her backpack up and over her shoulder. She made it to the door before she found she had to turn back and ask him.

"Jake, how do you know about him?"

"Don't really know him. I just used to see him around a lot. He … listen, I don't want to worry you, I thought you knew him."

"I do, but … well, what do you mean you saw him around a lot?"

"He would show up once in a while and sort of watch you. At first, I thought it was strange, but then, I don't know, he seemed harmless. He seemed to watch over you to protect you or something. He sometimes seemed mad if the weather was bad or you were out too late, like that time you didn't get back from London 'til after sunrise."

Hermione snorted at that. A Death Eater seeming harmless! She thought of the innocence of babes and smiled at him. "Thanks, Jake, I have to run now. If I don't see you again, thanks for everything."

"Sure, you have a job already?"

"Yes, in London!" She smiled widely at him. "Research and Development in a top pharmaceutical lab, McMaters. They recruited me. I didn't even have to apply."

"That's great, Vic. Congratulations."

Hermione put her hand out and opened the door before tuning back to him and smiling. "You've been real nice to me, Jake. Thanks."

He nodded and watched as she left the shop, thinking that she did not even look the same as when she had first walked into his shop. She had a confidence now that she did not have then, a way of carrying herself and a sort of charm. He turned back to his work, forgetting all about her and the dozens like her that came though his shop every year.

Hermione walked back to her apartment, thinking how strange it was that Severus had come so often that even Jake had recognized him. Since he had left, she had thought about the potion and would wake at night to pace and try to think of what she could have done differently. She thought of Voldemort's blood and shuddered to think that she could have really thought Snape would forgive her for tricking him about the potion. Twice she had written an apology to send by owl and twice she had thrown it on the back burner of the stove and watched as it turned to ash, knowing that in the receiving it would only open old wounds.

Hermione walked into her apartment and looked at the boxes she had already packed to take to her new place. She had called movers only to find the fees too high and now had to find a place to store them until she could afford to have them shipped. She would take a trunk and one carry case to the train station and hoped she would be able to navigate the streets from Victoria to the room she had let until she could find an apartment.

She had left out the teapot, dishes and other kitchen breakables, deciding to leave them for the new tenant. Between the cost of shipping and the knowledge that they would break in the process of a move, she would just have to replace them.

Hermione headed for the chair by the window and sat looking out, realizing this would be the last night she would spend here. She could just see the roof of the university building where Richard had kept his office. She looked at the orange tiles now and wondered where he was. She had one of his old scarves he had left on his last visit. On long nights, she would wrap it around her neck and lower her head, smelling his musky cologne and wanting him to knock on her door as she sat by the window watching for him to come back, knowing he wouldn't, but watching anyway.

She had thought she would be excited about the new position she had. A new job at a pay she still could not believe, a new apartment back in a city she loved, these two things should have made her happy instead of leaving her anxious and full of dread. She thought it was perhaps too soon after school. Perhaps if she had planned to take a break to relax and enjoy herself it would be different. Perhaps if he was here to share it with...

She stood and went to the kitchen to fix a pot of tea, smiling at the memory of her mother doing the same. She had often teased her mother about her faith that a spot of tea could put everything right. Now she measured the tea and poured the water in her pot, seeing her mother's hands doing the same. She smiled at the thought that although thousands of miles and a lifetime away, perhaps her Mum was doing the same.

She thought of her parents often now, something she had been unable to do before. She could think of them with smiles and laughter and not feel the pain and sadness. Sometimes she would sit on the floor and arrange all her pictures in front of her and go over their times together. Last month she had finally bought a frame for the picture of her parents' wedding and placed it on the table by the window.

She had only one picture of Richard. Hannah had given it to her as they had gone through the family albums. Sometimes she would slide it in her pocket to be able to feel it slide between her fingers when she shoved her hands in her pockets. She wondered what he was doing and if he had moved on and found someone else. She hoped he had at the same time she prayed he had not.

She heard her neighbour's son running up the stairs and ran to the door to call to him. Telling him she was moving and that she had no further use of the telly, she gave it to him. Seeing his face turn from fear of being scolded for running on the steps to disbelief over his fortune to sheer joy, she laughed and gave him a hug before he ran off to get help in carrying the set up one more flight of stairs.

As she stood watching the young boy and his father carry out the television, she remembered the time she had bought it just to fit in. She shook her head and laughed. Now she just shrugged her shoulders when some comment came she did not understand and did not feel compelled to learn about it.

It was dark out, but still early when she showered and went to bed. She would get up early and pull her trunk to the station on her way to her last day at the university. He would not be able to find her now. If he came back to see her, if he wondered if she was still here or if she still cared, she would not be here. She closed her eyes and fell to sleep imagining his arms pulling her to his chest and his voice whispering in her ear.

.

.

.

Severus paced in his chambers as his morning tea grew cold. He was dressed in black trousers and a white loose-fitting shirt, open at the collar, with long sleeves to cover his mark. He wore his hair pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck with a length of softened leather. He sighed and sat down to pull on a pair of shoes, opting to forego his standard black dragonhide boots.

His long strides took him down the hall quickly, but not quickly enough to keep the students from seeing him. As he walked through the halls, he could hear the silence spread ahead of him like the ripples of water when a stone is dropped to the centre. He cursed himself for not taking a room in town or leaving before dawn as he now looked straight ahead as he made his way to the main gates.

As he knew she would, Minerva stood at the window waiting to see him leave. She knew he would go to Hermione's graduation even as he adamantly said he would not. She smiled and chuckled when he finally strode out of the front door and made his way to the Apparation point.

"So, our professor has changed his mind and is going?" Albus craned his neck in the portrait, trying to see over Minerva's shoulder.

"No," she laughed. "He has just admitted it to himself that he will. They are both much too stubborn, you know."

"I would put it as they are both too sure of themselves." He stroked his beard and chuckled. "You taught them well, Minerva."

"I am not stubborn." She folded her arms and glared back at him.

"No, my dear. Not at all. I have always considered you the most self-assured witch I know."

"Stop, old man, or your picture will face the wall in here as well."

"Keep that up and you will lose your favourite spy, Minerva dear."

"Do you think she will come back now?" Minerva mused as she watched Severus turn in mid-step and whisk away.

Albus sat back in his chair and looked down at Minerva. "Are you sure you want this for her? Or is it yourself you wish to make happy?"

"Both," she said, dabbing at her eyes. "Is that so wrong? Is it wrong to know that if she returns it would help Harry and Ronald put the past behind them as well?"

She looked up and saw that Albus had already laid his chin on his chest and was dozing off. "Git."

.

.

.

Hermione walked off the platform after giving her speech as the winner of First Class Honours, intent on catching up to Severus before he could get away. She had seen him standing against the back wall as she was in the middle of her presentation and was unable to acknowledge his presence. By the time she made it to the door she saw him, walking away across the campus grounds almost to the road.

"Damn." She picked up her black robes with one hand and held her cap with the other as she ran across the lawn to catch him.

"Professor!" she yelled as she got closer, seeing he did not turn. "Snape!"

He stopped and slowly turned to see her running to him and smirked at her complete lack of decorum.

"You came." She was breathless and fighting for air when she caught him. "I didn't think I would have anyone here."

"Miss Granger." He nodded his greeting.

"Come on, Professor, I think it's time you called my by my first name." She grinned at him.

"Which one?" He sneered and looked down at her.

"Vickie." She looked straight at him.

"I see."

"Let's not do this." She pulled off her cap and struggled out of the graduation robes. "Let me get rid of this thing and buy you a cup of coffee."

"I really need to get back, Miss Granger."

"You won't let me apologize to you?" She worried her lip and looked at him hopefully. "I have it all planned out - what I will say, I mean."

"I see, did you make a list?" He allowed himself to grin at her.

"Yes, Professor. First, I will do what every good house-elf does and smack my head on the wall. Then, if that is not enough I will offer to clean your cauldrons, with a toothbush, of course. If that still does not work I will promise detention with Filch every night of the term." She laughed at him.

Severus felt his lip twitch as he watched her, and then nodded his consent to the offer of coffee.

"I will be right back. I have a fifty-pound deposit on these that I plan on getting back." She turned to run away when he reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Leave them here, I will pay the …"

"Don't say it. I think this is where we went wrong last time." She giggled, then stopped and placed her hand on his arm. "I am so glad you came, sir. I really didn't want to be alone today. I don't know why, but it means a lot to me to have someone here."

"Return your things, Miss Granger. I shall wait."

He watched as she again ran across the field and smiled at the sight. She seemed younger than when he had last seen her. She had put enough weight on that the harsh, haunted look on her face was gone and she no longer wore makeup to hide the circles under her eyes. He waited until she returned and, taking her elbow, he walked to the coffee shop with her.

"Professor, I really am sorry about the potion." She leaned forward and whispered to him. "I really did think about it, but I could not find another solution. I just wanted to… to do something."

"The potion was very effective, Miss Granger. However, I would have appreciated your honesty with me." He leaned back in his chair and looked at her. "Do you have any idea how hard this has been to accept?"

"I thought of that. Poppy had promised to destroy her records. I didn't even think that St. Mungo's would send a receipt to her. I am so sorry, Professor. It's just that you did so much for everyone I wanted to give something back."

"Severus."

"What?" she asked, not sure she heard correctly.

"My name is Severus. After all the time we have spent together as teachers at Hogwarts, and now all this, I think it appropriate you call me by my first name."

"The right one, or can I make one up for you as well?" She laughed and leaned back in her chair.

"Where is Mr. - or is it still Professor Hayes?"

"We need to catch a waiter and order the coffee." She looked around until she caught a waiter's eye, and then held up two fingers.

"They have great coffee here." She took sudden interest in the sights out the window.

"I asked you a question Miss … Hermi… Vicki… I cannot do this, Miss Granger. Your name is Hermione."

"I have not seen Richard since Christmas." She swallowed and looked away. "I would rather not talk about him."

"Were you honest with him?" He leaned forward in his chair to watch her face.

"Honest? Yes." She looked down and twisted her hands together. "Truthful? No."

"You didn't tell him?"

"I can't, I mean I couldn't." She bit her bottom lip and stared at him. "I wanted to thank you for paying…"

"We are not discussing that." He sat back and folded his arms. "If I remember correctly you left your hand print on my face once already over that issue."

"Can we just have our coffee and not talk about this?"

"No."

"It is better this way." She looked down and then out the window. "He is better off without me. Safer, if you will."

"Like your parents, Miss Granger?" He scowled at her.

"I thought so at the time." She frowned and glanced at him, then back to the window. "He left without telling me where he was going."

"Did you give him a chance?"

"You are not my father, Severus." She smirked at him.

"Kingsley has mentioned that word has come of your parents. They have been located and are doing well. Although they have no memory of you, they are doing well."

"Thank you for that. Are they happy? Do you think they are happy with their life?"

"One could only hope so. It is impossible to know from outside appearances. I am sure they would be extremely proud of you, Miss Granger."

She smiled at him. "Thank you. It used to bother me, you know. What I had done, I mean. Then I thought I would rather have it this way than some other."

"Agreed. The Dark Lord had made plans for them. We could have tried to hide them, but perhaps your way was safer." He took a drink of his coffee. "Minerva sends her apologies. She wanted to accompany me today."

"I wish she had. It has been a long time since I have seen her."

"She is feeing her age as of late."

"She is ill?" Hermione looked up at him, alarmed at the news.

"She is tired. You fought a war for seven years, I for almost twenty. Minerva has been fighting long before even my birth. Even before Riddle, there was another, and I fear there no doubt will be more in the future. However, that will be someone else's fight." He looked at Hermione evenly. "She needs to find her own peace and stop trying to save the world. It has become a habit for her."

"I will never see you again, you know," she said with the sudden knowledge that when he left he would not be back.

"Perhaps. The future is always uncertain."

She reached up and removed the stickpin she had worn every day since he had given it to her and slid it back across the table. "I don't think I need this anymore."

They sat in silence, drinking their coffee, each lost in their thoughts, until Hermione looked up at the clock.

"I have a train to catch," she said, standing up and holding her hand out to him. "Thank you again, Severus. Thank you for coming."

"Miss Granger. I feel I must mention one thing more." He scowled and looked around uncomfortably, then pointed to her chair again. "Please, Miss Ganger."

Hermione sat down and raised her eyebrow, wondering what he had to say that would make him look so embarrassed. She had never seen him look as nervous, or as vulnerable as he did at his moment.

"Miss Granger, several years ago, I believe before you were born, I made a mistake that I am still paying for."

"I know, Professor, but you repented that."

"I am not speaking of what I did for the Dark Lord, Miss Granger."

"Oh, sorry, Professor, I mean Severus. Go on."

"I did not take an opportunity that presented itself to me. I have always regretted that. Perhaps if I had spoken up at the time things would still be as they are now, perhaps not. It is that uncertainty I regret."

"Harry's mother?"

"Yes, Miss Granger, and one other."

"If you are talking of Richard, please don't do this. I have enjoyed my time with you, don't ruin it now."

"Miss Granger, is he here with you now?"

"No, you know he isn't."

"Then tell me, Miss Granger, for I seem to have misplaced the instructions to this game you play, you need to help me understand this. If you tell him you are a witch, he will leave. If you do not tell him, you will send him away." He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "It seems the result is the same."

"I can't believe I am getting advice on my love life from Professor Snape, the git of the dungeons." She laughed at his look of defeat.

"It's too late, Professor." She shook her head. "You didn't see him when he left. It's too late."

She stood and leaned down, kissed him on the cheek and laughed when he almost jumped from his seat in surprise, then surrendered to her.

"That was for Minerva - give her my best." With that, she turned and headed to the train station.

Severus stood up and watched after her as she walked away. He had come close to telling her what he had seen in Richard's mind, the emotions he had felt and the fact that she was making a mistake. He now wondered if he was indeed getting so old that he would change a lifetime of habit and get involved in something not his concern.


	12. The Tenth Christmas After

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**The Tenth Christmas After**

* * *

Hermione woke to the sound of someone pounding on her door. She opened one eye and peeked at the clock she kept on the table next to her bed. Moaning, she pulled the pillow over her head as the pounding came again, trying to block it out.

_Shite_, she muttered as she grabbing her robe and shuffled toward the door.

"Enough all ready. I am coming," she shouted to the door, hurrying down the short hallway tying her belt and smoothing her hair down as she went. She grabbed the door handle and pulled it open it to see Severus in the same clothes he had worn to her graduation.

"Miss Granger." He greeted her as he pushed her aside and strode into her room. "I have come to collect you for the day."

"It's Christmas, I already made plans."

"I am aware of that Miss Granger. Your plans have been somewhat modified."

"Modified? I don't see you for months and then you barge in just to ruin my day?"

"I have been in touch with a mutual friend. The Headmaster at your University."

"The Headmaster? Why were you there?"

"Your old Headmaster was a friend of my Mothers. I try to see him at least once a year."

"You arse, that is how you managed to get my name and pay my tuition." She grinned at him. "I must say Severus, you do surprise me."

"I have always managed to keep contact with those whom may be useful Miss Granger. Surely, you remember at least this."

"It's too early to figure you out. What does the Headmaster have to do with this?"

"He had your forwarding address, among others. It would seem you have been able to survive with absolutely no use of magic, making my tracking spells unusable."

Hermione walked to the door and opened it, looking at Severus without a word and waited for him to leave.

"I have come to collect you for Minerva's breakfast. She has taken to have one on Christmas mornings and has expressed her desire to have you attend this year."

"I don't think I can do that Severus."

"She is not well Hermione, it is the only reason I have come."

"Minerva?" She closed the door and walked back into the apartment, sitting heavily on her sofa. "What is wrong with her?"

"Poppy says her heart is not strong. She refuses to quit until she has settled the work she has planned. Assuring herself of your continued well being is part of what she feels she must complete, and in that regard, I must insist on your attendance today."

"I can't imagine Hogwarts without Minerva." Hermione said softly staring at the floor. "She is part of it you know. Albus was there and of course we missed him, but Minerva was everyone's mother. She was the one that took care of us. She… she was always there to listen and never forced things on us."

"The Board of Governors has agreed that she will have permanent chambers on the grounds." He walked to the window and looked down at the street below. "She will still be there. However, she will not work as the Headmistress."

"Will she still teach?" Hermione wiped a tear with the back of her hand.

"No, she is to be there in an advisory capacity only." He turned to look at her. "You need to know that many of your classmates will be there as well."

"Ronald and Harry?" She looked up at him and saw him nod.

"You will come?" He looked down at her solemnly.

"Of course I will. I would do anything for Minerva."

"She made a point of you knowing that you need not come out of obligation."

Hermione stood and walked over to him. "Of course I'll come, just give me ten minutes."

Severus stood and watched the traffic move slowly through the snow-covered streets while he waited for Hermione to get ready. He turned, and frowned, looking around her apartment, seeing her bookshelves full of textbooks, her new desk devoid of parchment and quill and her pristine carpeting and furniture. He walked over to the fireplace and picked up the only picture displayed. He studied her parent's faces and scowled as he put it back.

"Hermione?" He turned to her as she walked back in the room. "I think I should take you in a side-a-long. It has been years since you have travelled to Hogwarts, and since you are not connected to the floo it will be safer."

"Sure, or I am only a few minutes form the Leaky Cauldron, we could use their floo."

"No, we will leave from here." He looked at her blue jeans and scowled. "I am sure Minerva would prefer something different Miss Granger."

"It is only breakfast Severus." She rolled her eyes and walked to get her coat out of the closet.

"I will wait until you make yourself presentable and do something with that." He and looked directly at her hair and raised an eyebrow.

"Fine, then I need at least an hour." She snapped at him.

"I have nothing planned." Severus smirked and sat down in one of her chairs, folded his arms and stared at her.

"If I didn't know better I would say you are up to something Snape."

Hermione stomped into her room, angry that he had told her to change her clothes then sighed and opened her closet to find something more fitting for a Christmas morning. She knew Minerva would expect traditional dress. Severus was correct, and she thought it was the least she could do to play the part.

She no longer kept robes. She no longer had use for them. She opted for a red silk skirt and white blouse in keeping with the season, and draping a single strain of peals around her neck, she sat at the vanity to comb her hair. Without thinking, she put on lipstick and a touch of makeup to her eyes before standing to go back into the living room.

"Okay," she called to Severus as she stood by the hall closet sliding on her boots. "Let's get the over with."

Severus looked at her boots and shook his head. "I use magic Miss Granger. I do not think those will be necessary."

"I still have to make it from the gates to the Main Door."

"I use magic, Miss Granger, as I said. The pavement will be clear." He walked over to her closet, took out a pair of black heels, and handed them to her.

Looking at him oddly, she took them, let them fall to the floor, and slipped her feet into them.

"Satisfied?"

"Other than that stuff on your face you are passable." He smirked as he pulled her under his arm and did a side along apparation landing just outside Hannah's house in South Hampton.

"I shall wait here, Miss Granger." Severus said looking down at her, then stepped back and cast a warming spell around himself.

"You said you only came for Minerva."

"I lied."

She looked at the house and whirled back to him. "You bastard."

"I believe my birth certificate says differently. It is time to deal with your past or cut yourself free Hermione."

She looked up at the house as he flicked his wand and melted the snow on the pavement from them to the house and up the stairs.

"This is why you wanted me to change?"

He nodded at her. "Yes, and when we are done Minerva will be waiting. I did not lie about her, Hermione. I only lied about her being the only reason."

"You should have warned me. At least you could have done that." She hissed at him.

"I did not know myself until I saw your apartment." He looked up at the house and nodded toward the door. "It is time. You know that as well as I."

Hermione looked at the house and turned back to Severus. "What do you mean until you saw my apartment?"

"No one lives there. It is empty."

"Empty." She said flatly and looked up at Hannah's home. "It does feel… What if he is angry? What if he hates me?"

"What if he does? Then nothing will be different then it was before we left your apartment. You have lost nothing."

She nodded up at him. "I guess I owe him this. I'm scared Severus, really truly scared."

"Miss… Hermione, if you need to leave quickly or need help I shall be here for you."

She started up to the pavement, looking back at him over her shoulder, and finally reached the door which was decorated with a holiday wreath. She swallowed hared and then raised her hand, only hesitated for a moment, then knocked.

"Vickie?" Hannah opened the door and looked at her in surprise, stepping aside and letting her enter into the hallway. "I'll just be a moment. Richard is in with the children. They are opening their gifts. I will have to ask him if he is willing to see you. I'm not sure that he will."

Hermione licked her lips and nodded, her mouth suddenly too dry to talk. She lowered her head as she felt the heat which started on her face cover her neck and throat. She wondered why she was doing this and looked back to the door ready to flee.

"Thanks Hannah, I'll be fine." Richards's voice came from the doorway as he stepped into view. Hannah walked by him and looked back at Hermione, patted his arm, and turned to slide the pocket doors closed.

They stood, each waiting for the other to speak, until Hermione took a step forward before she could stop herself, and then stopped to look at him.

"Richard?" She slipped her hand to his cheek and searched his face. She closed her eyes and took a breath only to find him still there when she opened them again. He scowled at her and pulled back from her touch.

"My name is Hermione Granger." She smiled at him through her tears. "I never thought I could say that to you. I don't know now why it was so hard. I never thought to see you after you left, I didn't even plan on…"

"What are you here for Vickie?" he spoke evenly and harshly.

"I came to explain things, if you still care to know. If not, I understand and will just leave."

"I should have worded that differently. _Why_ are you here?"

She opened her mouth and closed it, unprepared for the question that he so casually threw out. She twisted her hands and then stopped and shoved them in her coat pockets when she saw him watching them. She felt the smooth surface of his picture she carried and fought not to run.

He sighed loudly. "Last time Vic, _why_ are you here?"

"Because, I … I think … I…"

"Say it," he said stepping closer to her. "Damn it woman just say it."

"I love you Richard." She gasped as he grabbed her hand she had raised again to his face, and pulled it roughly down.

He lowered his eyes and looked at her body, then back up to her face. "I looked for you. You had already left when I came by your apartment."

Soft little girl giggles came from behind him. He dropped her hand and looked up to the ceiling, rolling his eyes. "My nieces."

She peeked around his shoulders and saw two pairs of the bluest eyes she had ever seen looking out from a crack in the door.

"Hi." She smiled at the gaily-dressed girls.

"Hi," said the tallest and sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. "Mum says you best not hurt my Uncle Richard again. She says if you do she will do a bad word and…"

"Tabatha! Take your sister back into the sitting room." Richard said gruffly not taking his eyes off Hermione. "Tell your Mum my ya."

The pocket doors slide shut as Hermione grinned. "My ya?"

"Hayes speak for _mind your own business_. We are usually an outspoken family so don't be surprised if about ten more are peeking out in a minute to give you a peace of their minds."

"Richard. I have to talk to you. I need to tell you…"

"No, not here." He jerked his head back to the door as it again slowly opened to reveal a set of brown eyes on the small face of a boy.

"Richard, how many nieces and nephews do you have?" She grinned as the boy hugged a bear to his chest and thrust a thumb in his mouth.

Richard turned to the door and grinned, then gently pushed the boy back into the other room and slid the door shut again. "Eleven. Lisa and Hannah are having a race for number twelve. They are both due in March."

"Let's go in there," he said with a nod to a small library at the end of the hallway.

He flicked on the light and stepped in waiting for Hermione, then closed and locked the door.

"Before you say anything, I want to say that what you said in the hallway no longer matters to me." He raked his hands through his hair. "I don't know if I can go through this again."

"Oh," Hermione swallowed and looked at him, stepping back. "I owe you an explanation. I want you to know what happened. I shouldn't have said that."

"Does it matter? Do you really feel compelled to come to my sister's house to tell be about this?"

"This may be just a wee bit different then what you think it is. I'll leave if you would rather. Richard, I don't want to hurt you, I never thought to hurt you."

"I thought for the longest time you were married." He shook his head and laughed at her shocked expression. "I know, but the name and all. Then I figured you didn't act experienced in bed to have had a man often enough to be any good at it."

Hermione reddened and looked back at him fighting for her tears not to spill over. Swallowing them down she walked across the room, distancing her from him, and then turned back to face him.

"I made a mistake." She whispered. "I shouldn't have come. I thought you should know is all. But, I need to leave now, I am sorry I came."

"Know what Vickie? That you made a fool of me?"

"No, that I loved you. That I couldn't tell you about my past without you leaving me. That I wanted so badly to have you want me that I tried to be someone I wasn't. That I still love you. "

He crossed the room and lifted her face to his, looking into her eyes and shaking his head. "I want to hurt you. Do you know that? I want to say things that will hurt you as bad as you hurt me."

"I think you just did." She tried to laugh as the first of her tears welled in her eyes. "I thought … I thought you… when we made… I thought it was good. I thought you loved…I'm sorry."

His lips came down and covered the words before she could finish saying what she wanted to tell him, but could not. He pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and crushing his lips to hers. Kissing his way across her eyes to her ear where she heard him as he sighed.

"I lied." He chuckled. "You drive me crazy. Sometimes I close my eyes just to see you, just to remember how you look, how you sound and feel. I remember your smell, and your taste and I want you in my bed every morning I wake. Gods, how I have missed you."

"Richard," she closed her eyes and felt his hands glide under her coat and over her body. I need to finish this, please let me finish this."

He stepped back from her, tipping her chin up and nodding to her. "If we want a chance at this at all you need to tell me what happened. I don't know if I want to through this again. I don't think I can. Vickie, if we are to start over I need to know everything."

"First, you need to understand that I did not tell you any of this at the beginning because I was trying to hide it. Then, I couldn't tell you because I, well, because I wanted to believe you loved me and that this would come between us." She shrugged off her coat and tossed it on the sofa.

"You didn't trust me." He scowled at her.

"I trusted you Richard. I just believed you loved me. I didn't _know _it. Do you see the difference? Do you understand that when you believe in something, something like Father Christmas you can lose it in a heartbeat of time? I needed to _know _you were there. I couldn't let myself _know_ you loved me."

"Vickie, I did every thing I could. I don't know what else I could have done."

"Sit down Richard. This is going to be harder on you then it is on me right now. Let me do what I came for, and then you decide if you still want me here." She tried to smile at him. "You remember last year when you heard Professor Snape say I was a witch?"

"That was totally uncalled for Vic. I still don't understand what that was all about."

"Hermione, say it, it's my name. It will get easier. Well, I am."

"You are what?"

"I'm a witch. My name is Hermione Granger and I am a witch. Sounds like a quit drinking group hey?"

"A witch you say."

"Richard this would go faster if you didn't just repeat things. Yes, I am a witch."

"Like one of those people who practice Wicca and go to Stonehenge once a year?"

Hermione snorted in laugher. "No, a real witch, one with magic."

"Magic? Umm, sorry. What kind of magic?"

Hermione squatted down in front of him and pulled out her wand. Then grabbing his handkerchief from his pocket she tapped it and let loose a dove that flew around the room, landed on a bookcase and gently cooed.

"How did you do that?" His brow wrinkled as he looked at her. "You do tricks?"

"No, it called transfiguration," she sighed. "Okay look, I am magical. I was born with magic. You are a Muggle. You were born without magic. That is the only difference. It took me a long time to figure that one out, but it is only a small difference."

"Vickie…"

"Hermione, you need to start saying it. As I was saying, I am a witch. Professor Snape is a wizard. A very powerful wizard, and quite famous I might add."

"I never heard of him."

"That is the difficult part, really harder to believe then the fact that I am a witch."

"Vickie, Hannah's husband is a doctor, maybe he could…"

Hermione snorted at him and sat down heavily on the sofa laughing. "Oh my gods, Richard. I thought you would run away screaming, instead you want to take me to a doctor. Trust me I am quite all right, it is you that may need a doctor soon."

"Vickie, I thought you came here because…" He sighed as he got up slowly and walked to the door. "Obviously you find a sort of perverse joy in this. Leave, Vickie or Hermione, whoever you want to be today. I can't do this. Not today, not with my family sitting in the next room."

Hermione flicked her wand and set wards up around the door, frowning at him.

"Richard if you want nothing to do with me when I am done I will understand that. You have to listen to me. You have to believe me. No, you have to _know _I am a witch.

The magical world lives beside this one. It interacts and is interrelated and at the same time keeps completely separate. For example I can see things you can't."

"That's why I thought you could talk to Hannah's…"

"Not like that, not because I am crazy but because they are hidden from you, warded against you. Non-magical men cannot see them. We protect ourselves by setting up boundaries and what we call wards to that keep us safe and away from the non-magical. Only, we call it Muggle. "

"Safe? Safe from what?" He ran his fingers though his hair. "Bloody hell, now I am listening to you."

"I think it is a hold over form when witches were burnt at the stake. Some of the spells are that old. Now, staying separate is partly from fear Muggles will see us, but mostly to keep Muggles from fearing what they do not understand. The magical world is wonderful. The Healers alone could shut down most of the hospitals."

"Watch," she said. then with a flick and short incantation she changed the fern standing in the corner to a fully decorated Christmas tree. She looked at him and nodded before changing it back.

"Richard, I went to a private school, its called Hogwarts. Professor Snape was really one of my teachers. I told you the truth about that. Only, I didn't study the normal things I learned how to use my magic."

She ran to where he had sat down again staring with his mouth partly open as if trying to talk. She squatted down in front of him, looked up into his face and reached up to stroke his cheek.

"There is so much Richard, so much that I could tell you but you need to believe me first. To _know_ who and what I am."

"You want me to believe … no, you want me to _know_ you are a witch? Tell me, Vic, do you ride brooms at night?" He was becoming angry with her for what he was sure was a sick joke.

"Heavens no." She blanched. "I hate riding at night. I don't mind so much during the day, but night can be quite dangerous, no lights you see. I could get someone to take you up if you think you would like it. Wait for summer though, right now it is …"

"Okay, fine. Have you had your fun?" He pushed her away, letting her fall to the ground as he angrily walked to the door and tried to pull it open. "Unlock it Vickie, now."

"It is a ward Richard, it really is not locked."

"I'm warning you."

"One more thing, let me just try one more thing." She was becoming frantic as she lifted up her wand again and sent a Patronus to fetch Severus. "Please, I am not crazy, let me do this. Talk to Professor Snape, he can tell you."

No sooner had her otter left the room when she heard Severus apparate in behind her. Spinning around she looked at him wide eyed.

"How did you do that? You have never seen this room?" She looked up in surprise that he did not use the door.

"Your Patronus, Miss Ganger, it enabled me to follow. Now, I see you are having difficulties."

"How did you get in here?" Rickard lost some of his normal robust colour.

"Have you not listened to a word Miss Granger has told you?"

"Severus, could you maybe let Richard see, in you mind I mean, could you let him see Hogwarts?"

"Wait just a minute." Richard looked from Severus to Hermione. "That day in your apartment, that time you… you read my mind? I felt strange, and thought… but no… this… no…"

Richard put out his hand and reached for a chair. He needed to sit down and sit down quickly. "Jake, what Jake said. He said the accent was wrong. He said you were off, odd or something. He said that Snape here watched you all the time."

Hermione nodded and fell to her knees in front of him again. "I had left the other world to go to school, he watched out for me. I didn't use my real name because I thought they couldn't find me that way but his tracking spells are good, and he knows the Headmaster."

"Tracking Spells? Umm, sorry. You can do what he just did?" Richard looked behind her at the Professor who no longer looked like what she said he was but an evil presence in the room.

"Yes, maybe not as far as he can, but yes I can do it." She reached up to touch his face when he grabbed her hand and brought her palm to his mouth, kissing the inside of her hand.

"Richard!" she gasped and laid her head down in his lap as tears welled up in her eyes again.

"I am either as crazy as you or I need to see my brother-in-law." He laughed nervously and stroked her hair looking up at Severus. "I guess we may as well be crazy together."

"Be aware Professor Hayes, that this information is not to be shared with your family." Severus scowled at him.

"I don't think that's a problem. They would just want to lock me up." Richard leaned back and ran his hand through his hair. "Why were you two fighting? Did it have something to do with all this? My Gods, listen to me, I am talking like this is normal."

"It's not abnormal." Hermione laughed at his face. "It is just hidden, you have to remember that."

"The long answer would take us into next week Professor Hayes. You would have to understand that Miss Granger is also something of a self proclaimed potions expert." Severus looked at Hermione and saw her look at him, biting her lip. "Suffice to say your witch often thinks she knows more then her teachers."

"Bloody hell man. I could have told you _that_ ten minutes into my first lesson when she tried to correct me on my translations." Richard looked at her and grinned as Severus broke into laughter.


	13. A New Begining

**Disclaimer: Not Mine**

* * *

**After the Fall**

**A New Beginning**

* * *

Hermione and Richard walked along the shore of the lake before heading up to see Minerva. It was the type of day that Hermione remembered the most from her days teaching at Hogwarts. This morning would turn into a warm summer day with the castle strangely quiet and devoid of children. The day would stretch out until late in the night when the first of the evening stars would appear on the horizon and she would feel embraced by Hogwarts' protection.

"We need to get going, you know she is waiting by the window." Hermione grinned as Richard rolled his eyes.

"She makes me feel like I should clean the black boards or something."

"Here that's easy. Just a flick of the wand."

"Do you miss it?"

"It's not that easy. Yes, I miss this place. I miss the quiet and the smell of the old books and the history and the memories it brings." She looked up to the castle again. "But no, I don't miss most of it."

"I still find it hard to believe that my wife has done all the things I read about in those old papers Minerva gave me," he chuckled, not able to keep the amusement from his voice. "I know for a fact that you could not possibly have been with all those boys."

"Watch it, Mister." She laughed and hugged his arm. "The Daily Prophet has never been known for its honesty."

"Still, if half of those things are true it's amazing. Snape must have been awesome." He frowned at her. "I still don't like the way that Weasley character treats you."

"Its not his fault, he was raised to think all witches should stay home and take care of the home while daddy goes to work. He and Harry are close again, that's a good thing. They are so different that they are good for each other, compliment each other. Ron never really saw what a good person he is, he always compared himself to someone else. Lavender is good for him, they match, and I think she really cares deeply for him."

"He treats me as if I stole you away from this whole thing."

"They don't understand that I can be happy and not be here. They find it easier to think I deserted them, or that you somehow forced me to leave."

"As if I could force you to do anything. I told them they are welcome to visit us anytime they want."

"There she is." Hermione raised her hand and waved at Minerva, who stood on the steps waiting for them. "Now be nice. She likes you."

"If she liked me any more she would throw me under one of those black horses over there, the weird ones with wings." He laughed, then turned and looked at her as she stopped to stare at him.

"You can see them? You're sure you're not having me on? You can really see them?"

"Yes. I can really see them," he said puzzled by her reaction.

"Richard, when you and Severus went off to have a drink together last night, where did you go?" She set her jaw and spoke from clenched teeth.

"Down in his chambers like we always do. He actually let me see his lab and his private library. Amazing." He took her arm and pulled her along. "Did you know he owns an original Chaucer and two pieces with Shakespeare's original notes? The library here could keep me busy for years, just cataloguing the originals. My god, I even found scrolls form the Mediterranean I can't even identify the language of."

"Let me guess. Severus offered to let you study here."

"Yes, damn nice of the bloke. I think the librarian here needs to update her skills though. I know there is a lot of controversy over oils from the hands ruining parchments and the new way of looking at it says that gloves are not needed, but until they prove that, she should insist …"

"Richard, stop. He is doing it again. He is trying to get you to stay here." She started up the steps to Minerva, hissing at him. "Later, we will talk about it later, not now."

"Mrs Hayes, I am so glad you could make it today. You as well, Richard." She looked at his Muggle clothes and sniffed her disapproval. "Do join us."

She turned and proceeded to her new quarters on the first floor just beyond the Great Hall. Once there, she opened the door letting Hermione pass her with a smile then scowled at Richard, stepping in front of him and entering before he could step in.

Severus was already standing at the fireplace with a glass of whiskey in his hand, watching as Minerva slighted Richard at the door, and felt his lip twitch at the Muggle's response. Richards hand went to his nose, rubbing the bridge and muttering under his breath.

"Mr. Hayes, I do believe this will help relieve your headache or dull your ears. Either of which will be of benefit for the next hour."

"Thank you, Professor." Richard stepped over, took the drink, and threw it back in one gulp.

"A little early for you Richard?" Minerva snipped. "Our own Potions Master has everyone convinced that he does not sleep as an excuse to indulge so early in the morning as he still considers it his night."

"I use Hermione as my excuse. She tries my soul."

Severus snorted his laugher and Minerva turned on her heel.

"Tell me Severus, what did you and Richard _do_ last night? Is there anything I should be aware of?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"Now children. We need not talk about this right now."

"You are in on this." Hermione looked at Minerva shocked.

"Hermione?" Richard knew the tone well enough to know something was spinning out of control.

"They gave you something. You would say they spiked your drink."

"No more then with what was necessary my dear." Minerva sniffed as she began to pour the tea.

"It is quite tedious to lift and reset wards just to allow your Muggle to see the castle. Severus has come up with a simple potion that infuses just enough magic into his blood to allow him to see our world. All of it."

"Infused?" Hermione scowled and put her hands on her hips.

"Your idea if I remember correctly. To infuse a potion I mean."

"I think we should leave Richard."

"Nope," he said, sitting down at the table and accepting a cup of tea from Minerva. "You see dear, Minerva and I have an agreement. One of our many. As much as she blames me for taking you away from her I must agree with her assessment of your character."

"My what?" she fumed.

"Character my dear."

"I quiet agree," Severus smirked and joined them at the table, leaving Hermione standing alone.

"You are what is called a runner and the three of us have agreed that it will not do."

"Not at all." Minerva nodded and took a sip of tea. "Now dear, have a cup of tea and once you have calmed down you may leave. Until that time you will find my wards quite impossible to break."

Hermione sighed, knowing she was defeated and joined them at the table. "Just tell he how much was infused."

"It was mixed with a potion just to insure he could find his way around here without bumping into anything or insulting one of the ghosts."

"I am not sure I want to hear this." Richard looked a shade lighter than he had just a moment before.

"Trust me Richard, there will be no side effects." Severus purred. "Unless of course the Bloody Baron takes a dislike to you."

"I really wish you would reconsider the offer the board has given you Hermione." Minerva reached out and patted her hand. "The enrolment is back up and since Severus will be Headmaster you can have your choice of classes."

"We are quite happy in London Minerva." Hermione sipped her tea. "Richard will soon have full tenure and is hoping for an appointment to the Historical Archive Division of the National Museum in London. I have received a promotion to Department Head in a job I love. We have no reason to move."

"It has been said, by more then one, that you are the brightest witch of your generation and to see it wasted is a shame." Minerva shook her head and glared at Richard.

"She is still the smartest Minerva. Here or there. She prefers for now to be there." Richard looked at Hermione. "If she ever wants to come back she can. She can commute by use of that floo thing, or I would give up my job and move closer, but for now we are happy where we are."

"It is your fault you know." Minerva glared at him. "It is your fault she didn't come home."

"She is home Minerva, she is in my home, her home… it is ours. It is not my fault! She made her choice, I gave her the option. Bloody hell woman, it is not even up to me to give her an option, she makes her own decisions. I do not control her." He stood from the table and headed for Severus' bottle.

"More whiskey, Mr. Hayes?" Minerva raised her chin as Hermione laid her head on her arms and Severus chuckled.

"You know, Minerva, that I come here once a month because it is what she wants. I must say, the best thing I can think right now about the baby is that I will not have to set …"

Hermione put her head up and looked at him in horror. Severus watched Minerva carefully, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing outright.

"Hermione, I didn't mean to say that." He saw her stricken look. "Really Hon, I know you didn't want to tell her yet."

"My dear boy," Minerva stood and walked over to him, putting her arm around his shoulder and led the confused man back to the table. "I am so happy for you both."

She tilted her head to the side and looked at him then nodded and threw her arms around him and hugged him to her.

"A baby." She let him go and patted her eyes dry, then returned to sit at the table. "A baby, oh my."

Richard turned to look at Severus. "Now she likes me?"

"Perhaps she did not think your sperm…"

"Snape, say it and I will hex you into next week," Hermione spat at him.

"Of course I like you, Richard. How wonderful." Minerva looked up at Albus' portrait to see him smile and nod. "A little Hermione, or a … well, in any case a little Hermione."

"Did I ever tell you that magical people have a very very long life span Mr. Hayes?" Severus sniggered. "Perhaps in the next fifty years you will learn to love her the way your wife does."

.

.

Hermione had a little girl seven months later, and Richard was so happy to find a way to keep Minerva at bay, Thomas followed their little Victoria fifteen months later.

Hermione now counted her time as before she had children and after they arrived. Once in a while, as a storm raged outside, and the wind blew the loose shutter in noisy dances against the side of the small house, she would still dream of green flashes of death and the sound of stones falling around her.

She still flinched when she saw one of the punk rockers on the street with purple and blue hair that made her turn and look for Tonks in the teenage eyes. Only now, she would roll over and wrap her arms around him, or feel him pull her close at the first whisper of wind and _know_ that she was home. She could no longer smell the smoke over his musky smell and no longer yearned for something she could not find.

Christmas were now spent in a household full of children. Nephew and nieces would climb in Richard's lap and listen as he read them the story of the first Christmas then run off to bed to wait for Father Christmas.

Every year Minerva would send a package to lay at the foot of her bed and Severus would scowl and come for dinner, complaining all the while. Yet, he would come as he did once a month for Sunday dinner, or one of the fifteen Hayes' children's birthdays. He was usually alone, but as of late with a witch named Julie that called Minerva Aunt and smiled when Severus allowed her to kiss his cheek.

END

* * *

**AN: Thanks for the feed back. The whole idea of this story was not about the magical world accepting Hermione, but her accepting herself. Is she a Muggle that happens to be a witch or a witch born as a Muggle? I like to think she is just Hermione.**

**I have re-edited to try to help the flow of the story and even out the rough spots. Let me know if it works… thanks.**


End file.
